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)
“No!” I shout and electricity sparks from one finger to the next, my gift fighting to be freed from this prison but the curse over this room is too strong. My head snaps back until I'm staring up at the stark white ceiling, and a scream tears from deep inside my chest, booming around the small space as a heavier current races through my body a moment later. But it’s not my gift. It’s the demand from this prison not to attempt to use it, and it’s not done.
Poison seeps from every corner like thick fog until it’s swallowing me whole, but it doesn’t stop at stealing sight and sound. It scrapes across my skin like the scales of a snake, slithering and circling my every limb, whirling around me like a mummified vortex, robbing me of air.
I struggle to breathe and gasp, before faintly hearing the slightest hint of a voice.
I close my eyes and focus, slowly opening them once more.
The room is clear of smoke, my body is free of any pain ... and Sinner Deveraux is standing just four feet away, head cocked as he stares through the red laser beams caging me in.
“Thought you’d take better care of the most important person in your life.” He frowns, looking to the left.
It takes me a moment to catch on, to register the mocking tone in his voice, and my attention snaps to the side.
My heart ceases at the sight. Literally stops beating and I grasp at my chest, desperate to rip my own heart out just to stop it from feeling.
The urn lies in dozens of pieces at my feet, what's left of Ben’s body spilt all around like a pile of dirt waiting to be swept away. Like trash. Like nothing.
“Oh my god!” I fall to my knees, scrambling closer. My hands shake as they brush across the floor trying to save the sandy bits. Shards of glass slice my hands and I think I’m crying. Blood rolls down my palms and fingers, thickening the ash into clumps of goo and I fall back on my ass.
“Fuck!” My face falls in my hands, one of the small shards cutting against my cheek, blood smearing into the clamminess of my skin.
I’m a fucking idiot!
I’m so sorry, Ben. I’m so fucking sorry.
My body quakes, my ears ringing so loud, like a fucking echoing scream that’s playing on repeat. It takes a moment for me to hear the laughter.
I look up, and this time Sinner’s smirk is deeper than the pits of hell. The difference between him and Knight, while undetectable to others, is blatant in my eyes. But I can’t pretend seeing Knight’s face staring back at me isn’t easy. I want to vomit. Scream.
I want to fucking die. I feel the insides of what’s left of me wilt like stubborn flowers unwilling to stay alive.
“You can’t let me in your head that easy.” He looks at his phone screen. “See what happens when you do?”
An illusion.
There was no pain or poison. He fucked with my head, and I allowed it, and this is the result. The King probably wasn’t even here.
Blood rolls over my elbow, splatting along my thighs. “Fuck you.” I don’t feel the distant throbbing of pain where the shards of the urn had cut me. The pain of that is simplistic up against the heartache of losing Ben.
“You were so close to doing just that, weren’t you?” His blue eyes pop up, shining like the shadow of a fucking psycho. “If it weren’t for your mate.”
I grind my teeth together until the physical pain makes itself known. “Fuck. You.”
A dark chuckle leaves him, and he stares for a long moment.
“I barely poked the edge of your mind just now, Little L, and—” he snaps his fingers “—open sesame. Are you sure you’re one of us? A defective Gifted maybe, the fates trying to apologize for allowing the spawn of the infamous Slasher to live? ’Cause I gotta say, daughter of Acheros Lacroix, that was as easy as manipulating a human.” Met with silence, he continues. “I know you’ve been gone a long time, Villaina, but—”
“Do not call me that.”
His eyes narrow and he steps forward, his body half through the red barrier and half out. “But you are Villaina Lacroix. There is no denying that fact.”
“I’m denying nothing, but Villaina died a long time ago.” I hold his gaze steady despite the fucked-up shit going on in my head. Like a mass pileup on the highway, it’s pure fucking chaos. “Just ask your mother.”
Sinner’s facial expression goes blank, and I know I struck a nerve.
“Watch yourself, ice princess, and get ready. You’ve only just entered the gates of fucking hell.” Sinner pins me with a derisive look and his meaning cannot be misinterpreted, not that the words were necessary. “Just wait until you see what’s inside.”