Escaping Death

Chapter 54

Ace

"The audio will run automatically but if you want to tap into the video feed just click cam one and...yeah, there. Now you see what I see." Tate over complicates how to watch a livestream to Hunter.

"Make sure you sit across from Sol," Hunter requests.

"Why?"

"He wants to stare at her tits all night," Eli shouts from the bathroom, and the roll of Hunter's lips trying to bite back a smirk confirms that Eli is right.

"Say that a little louder, I don't think the Betas in the palace heard you." Dean chastises Eli. Rightfully so.

We're used to answering to no one but we can't act like that here. This is her home, her family is royalty, and the guys need to watch what they say especially when it involves Solana.

"Dinner jackets on, let's go." Solana saunters out of her walk-in closet in sky-high, fuck-me heels and stops in front of her mirror to put the diamond earrings I gifted her back in place.

I don't need to look around the room to know that every eye is currently on Solana. She's wearing a plum colored dress with long sleeves and a pencil skirt down to her knees so tight you'd think she painted herself into it.

There's a gold zipper that runs up the entire length of the back but it's only zipped up halfway, stopping just above her panty line leaving her whole back exposed.

That zipper. Sweet Goddess that zipper.

That thing deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor for the exemplary and unwavering dedication to keeping her delicious peach of an ass within the confines of that skirt.

I can feel Eli's and Hunter's wolves clawing for control, Dean and Tate fighting to keep their flames in check. Lucky me – I have to do both. And worse yet, I have to fight these feelings for my own mate.

"Need me to zip you up the rest of the way?" I ask her hoping that by some miracle I might be able to keep my shit together at dinner.

"It's not meant to zip any higher," she breathes, understanding of the effect her dress has on me, and the rest of us, finally registering in her expression.

I force myself to walk slowly towards her, because if I don't I'll end up flying over there and relieving that zipper from the strain of keeping her curves locked up. "Are you wearing this just to torture me?" I whisper against her neck.

She turns to look at me from over her shoulder and shrugs with all the nonchalance I've come to expect from her, "you're the one who bought it for me. At the mall, remember?"

A gravely half-groan half-growl thunders through my chest and I have to really get myself in check when she breezes past me, giggling at my expense.

"None of that at dinner," she wags a pointed finger at me. "It'll be hard enough keeping my family out of my business without you giving them fodder for the fire."

"I'll behave if you do," I tout before dropping my eyes down her body to mentally catalog this image of her so it can sustain me all night. "Does your family normally get dressed to the nines for family dinner?"

"Not for everyday dinner, no," she hums and straightens out a wrinkle that doesn't exist on her skirt. "More so on special occasions when everyone is home."

"Wouldn't that be everyday? You're the only one who left." Fuck. I didn't mean for that to come out with so much bite.

She huffs out a short, empty laugh. "Everyone. As in my grandparents, Xander and his wife and kids, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, Beta Runidar and his wife..." she trails off. Something in the way the corners of her mouth dip down suggests that she's leaving something unsaid. Perhaps someone.