“Not alcoholics,” he says, with a frown, “just your run-of-the-mill magical lycanthropes who know how to party. Finish up everyone!” he calls, leading by example and draining his glass. “We’re here!”
I can’t help the little squeak of excitement that makes its way out of my mouth as I grab Daphne’s hand and pass glasses back along the line to Jesse, who neatly stacks them on top of the bar. And then, one by one, we climb out of the limousine and onto the steps of the palace.
As soon as Rafe opens the door to the car, the shouts of the paparazzi start and lightbulbs begin to flash.
Rafe goes first, followed by Jackson, and I eagerly follow after him, stepping close to my mate’s side and watching as his mouth slowly falls open while takes in the palace and all the people standing to our right, held off by red ropes, their cameras going mad. I glance once to the entrance and grin, a thrill of joy passing through me when I see my parents standing there, waiting to greet us. But I turn my eyes back to Jackson, wanting to make sure he’s okay.
“You…you live here?” Jackson breathes, not even blinking as he takes in the expanse of the Palace.
“What,” I say, frowning a little and looking where he’s looking. “is it like…big or something?”
Jackson turns his head to me, staring, shocked, and I burst out laughing, unable to help myself from pressing closer to his side just for a moment, even though I don’t take his hand or wrap my arms around him, like I want to.
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