Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
My own heart squeezes in my chest as I slowly lower her down onto her bed, pulling her covers back. She looks like shit, pale and freckled with soot. I drag the sheets up and cover her body, calling on Hydro to clean her and her clothes from the night before. She’ll wake up and think it was all a dream. That’s what I wanted, right?
I step backward, watching as the blanket rises and falls as she takes every breath. The back of my legs hit a dresser and I turn, my eyes coming to a small jewelry box. The symbol engraved on the top catches me off guard. A triangle and a single line running vertically through it. What? Where have I seen this? Who—I flip it open, holding my breath. Nothing. It’s empty.
Turning back around, I lower myself onto the chair pushed into the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows. I know I should leave, that my brothers could be hurt. Everyone could be hurt. But I can’t move. Frozen in place, I can’t move past this.
Her.
In this moment, nothing and no one else fucking matters.
Thirteen
London
I can’t breathe. My hands fly to my throat. I need to tear it open, puncture it. I try to suck in another deep breath, but the air is thick. My eyes pop open and I’m back on that same bridge, staring up at the dark night sky. This time feels different. This time I’m sure I’m going to die.
My eyes flutter closed, finally at peace. I’m ready to go… just take me… the hooded man can take me. I’ll even wait for him right here, on my back, at his mercy. I squeeze my eyes closed, praying to the gods. Praying to whom? What gods? Frustrated, I open my eyes again, and this time snow falls from the sky, a flake touching the tip of my nose.
I push myself up from the ground, ignoring the gravel that punctures my palms. “What?”
Laughter cackles out from behind me, and I quickly spin around to find it, only being met with nothing but the thick green bush hidden behind the snowy paddock. Curls are twisted in the snow, so I force myself back up to shaky feet, ignoring the way the cold weather leaves a dusting of frost down my spine.
There, staring back at me, are a triangle and line, scribbled through the snow. I knew that—did I? I think…
Dark smoke puffs from the trees, and a loud scream tears from my throat as the hooded figure flies straight to me, his arms wide like a bat.
I shoot up from my bed, sweat rolling off my temples as I finally suck down oxygen I so desperately needed moments ago. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I reach for the bedside drawer, finding my phone on the charger . Well, at least through my drunken stupor, I managed to do that . It’s ten a.m. I never sleep past six, and if I was as wasted as I’m almost certain I was last night, why do I not feel hungover?
I open the first text from Ben.
Ben: I left to get breakfast without you since you didn’t wake. Tell me… how’d the dick down with Knight go?
I groan, falling back down. I remember everything from last night—up until we were leaving for the party. Wait. No.
I shoot up from my bed again. Yes. I try to search my memories. I remember the party and the fun, cosplay Fae shit…coke maybe, and Molly…and whatever else I took. I was popping and drinking and inhaling shit left and right, anything to wash away the boredom of day-to-day and offer me something new.
Massaging my temples, I start to pray. “God. I promise I will never drink again if you just tell me all the stupid things I did last night.” Kicking off my bed sheets, I quickly use the restroom, grab my shower caddy, and I hit dial on Ben’s contact.
“You did good, princess.” He answers on the first ring.
“Shut up.” I drag my feet, refusing to look at anyone as I make my way to the showers. “What happened with you last night? What was her name?”
“Cassandra, and I’m just fine, thank you.”
“Just fine as in you got your dick wet, or just fine you got your dick wet and got her number?”
“Option one. I’m not in need of a number at the moment.”
“Atta boy.” I chuckle, pushing into the girls’ shower, my shoulders falling in relief when the only other person inside is packing up as I’m setting my things down. “So you never did say what happened with you and the Barbie girl you went there to meet that led you to this Cassandra…or did you, and I was just too fucked up to remember?” I strip out of…what the hell am I wearing? I wedge the phone between my ear and my shoulder, pulling on the bottom of the black T-shirt to get a better view.