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)
Why I brought her in here, I don’t know.
Nah, that’s a lie. I wanted to see her frosty hair spread along my black sheets to decide if I liked the way it looks or not. Turns out I do.
Like the way she looks in my room, period.
No one’s ever been in here, but I’m not about to tell her that. Girls like to throw that shit in your face when things go to shit, and they always go to shit. I’ve seen it more times than I can count with my father and his many mistresses.
Reason number one we stick to the primal part of being Gifted. Fuck and forget. Don’t pretend I’m interested in more than the velvet between a woman’s legs. Not that I can even stomach the thought of fucking anyone else right now.
Alex offered. When her words didn’t work, she stripped down in the foyer, my brothers and parents right there to witness, but no part of me was intrigued in the free feast I was offered.
In fact, when I pushed closer to her to tell her so, bile rose in my throat, then came anger, and I had to get the fuck out.
Get back to my girl.
To my pussy.
Mate.
My brows furrow and I stare at her chest as it rises and falls, her nipples hard and pebbled as she sleeps, looking like a dark angel I want to climb on, clip her wings, and run my claws through them, if only to keep her from flying away.
It’s fucking annoying.
I shouldn’t want her to stay, but I’m not sure I hate the idea of her being mine anymore. She’s feisty.
Fiery, and our bodies fit like the moon and midnight.
Now that I recognize the feeling, I’ve sensed it since day one.
Since that first game back on Earth.
Maybe before that.
But she’s weak.
Giftless.
“I thought you couldn’t mate with a Giftless?” I growl, teeth clenched.
Zhara raises her brow, her pierced tongue sliding over her lip. “You can’t.”
My conversation with the Mage comes back with a vengeance, and when I feel warm liquid roll down my chest, I look down.
Claws. Large, black, sharp claws escaped my fingertips, and this time I didn’t even feel them. My Ethos is like a beacon within my chest, calling to the girl beside us. The girl who cannot be what she seems.
Our gifts don’t reach for those without one.
Our gods don’t give us broken fates.
The Deveraux descendants who have turned to ash and seeped into the soils of this ground wouldn’t allow her within these walls without ripping into her mind if they didn’t know something I don’t. If they couldn’t see beyond the veil I’m blocked by when I try to dig inside her.
Blood rolls down my ribs from where my claws sank into my flesh, and London stirs, her nose lifting into the air. Her eyelids flutter slightly and my pulse pounds heavy in my chest.
She’s scenting me, like she knows I’m hers.
So why won’t she admit it? Claim her right?
Slowly, her eyelids open, big blue eyes meeting mine before dropping to the cuts on my stomach.
She doesn’t jump or panic. She yawns, frowning at the spot. “You’re bleeding.”
I wait for more.
For her to freak out and try to help me. To lick my wounds ’cause the sight of her injured mate makes her feel sick inside, overcome with anger and fury like I felt when I saw her cry. Saw her bleed when it wasn’t the result of my bite.
But she doesn’t do any of that.
London stands, and when she does, she hides herself from me, wrapping a blanket around her body as she slips from the bed.
I push up, pissed off as I watch her toe into her shorts and pull the cami back on like it’s the most annoying thing. She doesn’t want to wear restricting clothing.
She wants a T-shirt, like the half dozen I took from her room that belonged to another man. A lesser, fucking, worthless, Giftless man.
She faces me, and I scoot to the edge of the bed, my legs falling open, waiting for her to come to me.
London looks to the door. “When do I get to go home, Knight?”
My lip curls and I fly off the bed. She’s thinking about leaving me while I’m thinking about keeping her?
Fuck her.
Fuck this.
“How about never.”
Her head snaps back this way.
Good. I have her attention. “Maybe I’ll keep you locked up here until your worthless, Giftless body grows old and gives up on you.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Am I laughing?” My brows lift. “You think I have to send you back? Because I don’t. Humans can be pets here. Maybe I’ll put a collar around your neck and force you to eat off the fucking floor.”
Fear creeps into her blue eyes, and I punch the wall beside her head.
I fucking hate to see it.