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Their booth didn’t have one table in the middle but five, leaving ample room for them to get up and move without having to shuffle everyone around to get out. The dais was ringed by thick wood, topped with stained glass, offering a modicum of privacy aside from the open entrance where the steps were.
Fourteen.
“We’ve been summoned,” Zeke said with a smile, lifting his hand in response. “Think you can handle meeting everyone at once?”
Well, her only other choice was to run as fast and far as she could in the other direction. Lifting her hand to her hair, she twined the long locks through her fingers and pulled down, using the pain as a grounding point.
She wasnota human-sized sirloin steak strolling into the lions’ den, she told herself. They weren’t going to eat her or play with her for the fun of it. Full and engaging conversation didn’t have to be on the menu either; some Doms preferred their subs to be seen and not heard, if the books she read were to be believed.
“This is very unnerving,” she muttered to herself.
“You’ll be fine, angel.” Arm around her waist, Zeke escorted her the final twenty feet to the steps, then nudged her ahead of him. “Evenin’ all. I think most of you know her, but I’d like to introduce my submissive, Olivia.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Olivia, meet the Masters and their respective other halves.”
Her insides wilted as all eyes landed on her with interest.
Alicia bounced excitedly on the seat, waving madly, while Atticus gave Olivia a nod that held… respect? Beside them, Anarchy grinned, her blonde head resting against Jasper’s shoulder. The man himself quirked an eyebrow in curiosity.
To the right of them, Thane lifted his glass and gave her a wink, while the woman with her hand on his thigh offered a friendly smile. Gray eyes studied Olivia with a weird kind of empathy, as though they knew how badly she fought the urge to bolt.
Braun, she recognized, although he’d accumulated a few more wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and there was more silver at his temples since the last time she’d seen him. The dark-haired woman by his side bore a striking resemblance to Alicia, which meant she was Boadicea. Her smile reflected Olivia’s emotions perfectly.
Sharing their table, Saul sat with a pretty blonde on his lap. He was one of the Masters she didn’t know much about; his involvement with the operation to take Jasper’s father down hadn’t really blossomed until Caera had been kidnapped, along with Anarchy and Myna.
Olivia had read plenty on Caera’s history. The fact she was Jasper’s half-sister and one of their father and stepmother’s victims was fascinating on paper, but the reality of her childhood was far different.
The last section of the booth contained two couples. Both Loki and Liam were familiar; their women she knew more by their files. Blond, bearded Liam had been in a menage relationship with the stunning redhead playing hopscotch on the table with a stuffie. The redhead was shy, unassuming, and when she felt eyes on her, a flush kissed her face beneath the auburn stubble on her cheeks.
Hirsutism, Olivia thought. Bearded lady syndrome.
They were the ones who’d lost the most that fateful day Avalon exploded, taking Wyatt from their lives without a chance to say goodbye.
Her throat closed as she considered how much she owed a man she’d never see again. How much someone else was missing out on so she had this chance with Zeke.
As her eyes watered, she turned her attention to the dark-haired goddess sitting next to the man named after the God of mischief. They’d passed in the hallway of the hospital once or twice, and Olivia had studied the reports from the rescue mission in Montana religiously.
Myna Jackson was officially Olivia’s heroine, although Anarchy, Caera, and the livewire known as Tabitha were close contenders. They were allstrongwomen, powerful in a way that sang to her. They’d stood up to the bad guys, been beaten and assaulted while pregnant, and still managed to kick several asses under grueling circumstances.
They didn’t cower behind locked doors, wishing the monsters would go away.
Belatedly, Olivia realized Zeke was speaking, introducing her to everyone formally. Not as Sonic, the data genius, but Olivia, his submissive.
Now, they were all waiting for her to say something.
“Hi,” she croaked, sounding more like a frog squashed between a rock and a boot.
“Zeke, why don’t you both sit down? We saved you a spot with us.” Thane’s partner patted the leather beside her. “Olivia seems apprehensive. Apparently, the service submissives are pleased with their new roles for the evening; they’ll be along shortly to take your drinks order.”
He barked out a laugh. “We have waitresses now?”
“We decided to implement some new policies,” Braun drawled, a hint of Irish flavoring his tone. He tapped his fingers on the table, checking his watch. “Now that we’re all here, there’s something we need to do before I make this damn speech. Darlin’, would you do the honors for me?”
Boadicea reached behind her and pulled out a file folder, spreading it open on the small table. Pulling out a thin pile of papers, she rose, and began passing specific sheets to each Master, moving around the tables with a limp.
Zeke perched on the seat beside the woman who’d spoken first, then tugged Olivia onto his lap firmly enough to discourage any protests. “What’s going on, Connie?”
“No idea,” she murmured as Thane took one of the sheets.
“Take your time reading the contracts,” Braun invited. “All the points we discussed the other day are noted. There are no loopholes, no traps. We’ve had a long, rough road to get to today, and a few of us wouldn’t have survived without the support of the group. This is my way—ourway,” he corrected as Bodie shot him a look, “of not only saying thank you for your part in this saga, but keeping the family together.”
