Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 213974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1070(@200wpm)___ 856(@250wpm)___ 713(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1070(@200wpm)___ 856(@250wpm)___ 713(@300wpm)
A shout exploded from within a shrouded chamber, one filled with pain and terror, not pleasure.
I stopped, turning to my right. A cry sounded, weaker and shorter. Keep going. My chest clenched as I glanced back to where I’d come from. I had no idea where the guards were, but the sounds, the greedy slurping…
Damn it.
Some days, I hated myself. Prowling toward the gauzy black curtain, this was one of them.
Shoving the barrier aside, I scanned the dimly lit space. There were no couches or chairs in here, just mantels full of lit, half-melted candles and a mattress on the floor—one with rust-hued stains.
And it was not bare.
A dark-haired woman was on top of a man, her face buried in his throat. She wore a shapeless white gown or robe, but I could still see her body writhing beneath the cloth. Under her, the man was half-dressed, his skin nearly as white as his shredded robes. His frantic, darting gaze collided with mine.
His lips peeled back over tightly clenched teeth and then moved, forming one word I didn’t hear but felt to my very bones.
Help.
A different kind of instinct took hold as I rushed forward. The woman moaned deeply as the man beneath her jerked, his eyes squeezing shut so tightly the skin puckered at the corners. The woman was so caught up in what I figured was feeding that she was utterly unaware of me.
Reaching the side of the mattress, I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked with all my strength.
I caught a glimpse of the jagged puncture wounds in the man’s neck as I shoved the woman to the side.
Her head snapped in my direction, lips peeling back to reveal two bloody canines smaller than what I saw on the gods and Primals, but still sharp. She growled at me, and it once more reminded me of Andreia. This woman didn’t have two fangs on the bottom row of her teeth, though, nor did she look…well, as dead as Andreia had.
My gaze flew to hers. Good gods, her eyes were pitch-black, so dark I couldn’t see her pupils.
They weren’t like a god’s or a mortal’s.
She moved quickly, getting into a crouched position, her knees jutting out from the sides of her gown.
I had a sick feeling that both of them were Chosen, but she was what Gemma had spoken of: the Chosen who went missing and returned hungry.
Because this bitch looked like she was starving.
Her head tilted to the side as she sniffed the air. “You smell…”
I frowned at the raspy, throaty voice.
“You smell of Revenant and god,” she purred, moving fluidly, much like a pit viper. She moaned, and thick lashes fanned her cheeks. “And something else. Stronger.”
“Thanks?” I murmured, keeping an eye on her as I moved closer to the man. He wasn’t moving. “I think.”
A soft hissing sound came from her before she pressed her hands to the waist of her gown. “I’m so hungry.”
“Uh-huh.” Keeping the sword level, I bent and touched the man’s neck, feeling for a pulse. I found one. It was weak but there.
The woman angled her body toward me as she ran her palms up her chest. “You smell…”
“You already said that.”
“Like life,” she whispered, her lashes lifting. Pitch-black eyes faintly lit from within fixed on me.
“What the—?”
The woman leapt at me, full-on jumped like a large feline.
She was fast—faster than I expected—and crashed into me. The impact knocked the sword from my grasp. I stumbled back, tripping over the man’s legs. I went down, my hands on the woman’s shoulders. Hitting the stone floor was brutal, but the snapping fangs inches from my face were far more violent.
“Fuck,” I gasped as I held her back, my arms trembling as she grasped my wrist.
“Let me have some,” she cooed, her knees pressing into my hips. “Just a little bit. A taste. That’s all. Please.” She moaned, her hips rolling and grinding. “Please.”
“What in the fuck?” I exclaimed. She was almost as strong as a god. “Get off me.”
“I need it. I need more,” she whined, her voice thickening. “I need—”
Pushing with everything in me, I thrust her to the side. I didn’t stay on my back, realizing how damn fast she was. I popped to my feet and looked for the sword.
She flew at me, her movements frenzied and untrained, all arms and fangs. Was she biting the air? I shoved her back. If she were Chosen, I didn’t want to hurt her. Maybe whatever had been done could be undone. I didn’t know. “You need to calm down.”
Not doing that at all, she launched herself at me once more. I dipped under her arms, coming up behind her. Twisting at the waist, I kicked out, planting my foot in her back. She careened forward, dropping to her knees. I turned, spotting the shadowstone sword lying on the mattress. Grabbing it, I spun. She ran at me at full speed. I stumbled as my arms bent—