Fate of a Royal (Lords of Rathe #1) Read Online Meagan Brandy, Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: , Series: Amo Jones
Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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Tonight, I’m not interested.

I leave the way I came through. People move around me, afraid if they get too close I might snap. I might. Rage ripples through my veins the more I think about tonight, but the frustration of not knowing where it’s coming from gets to me more.

Tossing the glass onto the balcony, I squeeze the wooden railing. I need to fuck or kill something. Maybe Silver is right. I’m getting worse with every passing day of this semester. Or maybe the full fucking moon has a direct line for all of my issues and it’s deciding to force me into some type of shadow work.

I feel the coolness of the wind run its fingers through my hair and I breathe out a deep sigh, my muscles relaxing instantly. What the fuck?

Or maybe you just needed to touch grass, Knight. Fuck.

“I fucking hate walking, but you know that, you just never cared about what I hate. Did I say that, hmmm…wait—” The feminine voice penetrates my eardrums, and while I’ve only heard it once before, I recognize it instantly. It stabs at parts of me I can’t name, slamming into my mind like it fucking belongs there. Like it was coming home. “—this is stupid. Why didn’t you just go back to your dorm? Why are you making this so difficult?”

“I’m not!” A man’s voice now.

And then I see them. The girl from tonight, the one Sinner kissed, stumbling down the street with some fucking dude. The hoodie covering his head means I can’t tell from this angle if it’s the same one she was arguing with tonight. Before I can think any more into it, the rage is back, burning away all logical thinking.

There’s no way she can see us. The magic surrounding this house is the very same that covers our side of Daragan—the side the Giftless don’t see. Just like now, they don’t know we exist. And we prefer it that way.

I hover back, my eyes shifting with her movements as they slowly reach the house. He says something stupid, and she shoves him away. It isn’t playful , it’s sure as fuck giving a she wants to run vibe, but he hooks his arm around her little body, and the wooden rail I didn’t realize I was gripping snaps in the palm of my hand. I can’t take my fucking eyes off her. Like a hungry wolf, the anger only fuels my need for violence, the overwhelming desire to know what this Giftless girl’s flesh feels like in the palm of my hand.

Her body slowly turns to get away from whomever she’s with, when suddenly she stops, her head snapping in this direction until her line-of-sight locks with mine.

Instantly, my muscles ripple, clenching and flexing and stretching. Fucking straining.

She can’t see me.

There’s no fucking way.

Four

London

“Baby…” Trevor whines in the background like a squealing pig, only he lacks the cuteness a piglet does. “Please, let’s just go! I thought there was a party down here, but clearly I was wrong.”

“What?” I don’t bother to turn to face him because I’m stuck in place staring at what’s happening in front of me. People are sprawled out over the grass in the front lawn, smoking and drinking, and I’m pretty sure there’s a fight happening directly out front, judging by the blood splatter that’s flying up in the air. The home is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. I mean, sure, it has the overall look of the burbs, but there are smaller details that seem…odd.

Like for one… Is it fucking floating?

I blink and blink again.

Okay, I must have drunk a fuck ton more than I remember because it is definitely floating.

Right?

“What the hell,” Trevor’s mumbling dies off in the background, like I wish he would, and just as I squint to get a better look, my eyes are called to the patio, instantly locking on a familiar pair that’s already staring back at me.

I feel it in my chest before anywhere else. My heart drops to my gut, creating a hollow sensation as I try to inhale beyond it, fighting for a deeper breath my lungs deny. It’s as if the air I’m offering isn’t what they’re after, and the wind knows it, whirling at my back, almost like it’s urging me forward. Closer.

Man, how fucked up am I?

With each ticking second that passes, I can feel him reaching across the road and squeezing tightly around my throat. His eyes, they’re piercing. Even from here I can feel them. My mouth runs dry when he tilts his head , and that dark hair of his falls forward slightly, the messy strands begging me to run my fingers through it.

I recognized him instantly. It would be pretty sad if I didn’t, considering my little stunt at the Daragan State party earlier, even if Operation Run My Irritating Ex Who is Clearly in Denial of the ‘Ex’ Part Away was a total failure. That and the solid eye-fuck from across the arena prior to that.


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