Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“She’s not going back.” Legend swoops forward, lifting me in his arms once more.
“Legend, you can’t—”
“Yes, I can,” he cuts Silver off, gripping me tighter.
A moment later, I’m blinded by the opal colors, my eyes clamping closed, face turning into his chest.
A wave of nausea falls over me, my body swirling as if stepping off a shitty ride at the old county fair.
“Are you fucking insane?!” Silver hisses.
“Yes. I am.”
“She can’t be here, Legend!”
My body jostles as I open my eyes, realizing we're already through the portal and on the other side of it.
Crimson walls with black glittering whirls line the hallway, giant golden candlesticks floating beside them and flickering between fire and light with each step Legend takes, only the first five feet ahead visible at a time.
The ceiling isn’t a ceiling at all, but a gateway into oblivion. No stars shine above, no galaxy is within reach, just the air of darkness.
“Where are we?” I wonder.
It’s quiet. Too quiet. There are no guards to be seen, not a single servant or staff member crossing the halls as we move past them.
A sick feeling stirs low in my stomach, my pulse pumping harder by the second.
With each step taken, it only gets worse...
Knight
Like earlier, there’s a knock in my chest. Right in the fucking center. Pressure presses against my ribcage, but it’s different than the sensation I got at the end of the fight.
It’s stronger.
Deeper.
And it’s fucking tugging at me. I have to look down to make sure my flesh isn't ripping from my fucking bones. My throat begins to strain, and I throw my head up from the pile of fucking info spread out around the circular table.
Creed glances my way and Sinner glares from behind his laptop screen.
“What is it?” Creed sits back in his chair cautiously.
I look over at the couch, empty, the files Legend was going through abandoned there.
I shoot to my feet. “Where’s Legend?”
My brothers swing around, and they’re on their feet as quick as me.
“I didn’t even hear him leave.” Sinner spins to look at me. “Knight... no.”
I swallow. Fuck.
That’s not what this is, is it?
I felt some shit and then learned my father was murdered. Fucking dismembered.
Not my brother too. For our dad, we’d search the fucking worlds for his murderer.
For our brother?
We’ll burn them all to the fucking ground.
But this... my pulse thumps harder until it’s ringing in my ears.
My feet move without permission, my brothers on my tail. Just before I can throw the doors leading to the hall open, a gust of wind comes from the other side, bursting the doors open, rattling them on their hinges.
My blood runs cold then boils, the sight maddening and abating at the same fucking time.
London.
Covered in blood and grime and pressed against my brother’s chest.
Holding on to him.
Touching him.
Jealousy burns deep in my bones, and my hands ball into fists, every part of me aching to go to my mate. To remove her from his arms and take her into mine, but I force that shit away, draining myself of the weakness she bleeds into me just by being near. By existing.
Fuck this.
Fuck her.
“Knight,” Creed edges.
“Leave him,” Sinner snaps back.
Legend simply keeps coming forward, his chin held high. Silver stands back to stay out of this. As he fucking should.
Rage boils beneath my skin and I jerk the exact moment he does.
At warp speed, he whirls her around until her back hits the wall, spinning again in time to catch my fist to his jaw.
“What the fuck?!” I seethe, hitting him with a left this time, refusing to look at the girl who dropped like a fucking sack against the floor. “You got some fucking nerve, brother.”
He says nothing, taking my third hit before fighting back.
He shoves at my chest and I stumble a single step, lurching forward and tackling his ass to the ground. He throws up a portal and knocks me through it, and then we’re slamming into the wall at the other end of the room. His hand is on my neck, but I crash my head into his, reopening a wound that’s already there and whip him around, throwing him to the ground before stomping down on his throat.
“Enough,” Creed barks. “Get the bitch out and let’s get back to work.”
In my peripheral, Silver moves forward, and my head snakes around, staring as he drops beside London with slow, cautious movements.
That's when I finally look at her for real.
Her hair is matted with blood and what looks like dirt. The blood on her arms is soaked into the clothes she wears, and her skin is pale. Bruises mar her face and arms, and before I know I’ve done it, I’m standing over her.
Her palms are pressed to the floor, her eyes hardly open and head lulling from side to side.