Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Sitting back in my chair, I make a point of not eating, though I know they’ve been hearing my stomach growling since the second I walked in here. “What is this?” I question, waving my hand around the table. “You think you can try to win my cooperation with a fancy meal and some wine? You’re fucking psychopaths. I’d be a moron to willingly accept any food from you. Who knows what you’ve done to it.”
Roman sits up straighter and slams the tip of his dagger down into the hard oak table. “Do not question our generosity,” he spits, his words filled with venom. “Eat or don’t. It doesn’t mean shit to me. It just means that you’ll starve faster. And trust me, it’s a long, painful way to go.”
Marcus laughs, relaxing into his seat and propping his feet back up on the table, acting as though he didn’t just fall into a rage induced episode not two seconds ago. His laugh is hollow and lacks any kind of humanity, just like the dark depths of his eyes. “I do wish that you would eat, Shayne. You’re going to need your energy for what we have in store for you,” he tells me, shocking me with the casual use of my name, though it’s not so casual. It comes out as more of a haunting torment. I hadn’t realized that they knew who I was. I figured I was a random hit, but that only goes to prove that they targeted me, which means there has to be a reason why.
My eyes flash back to Levi, seeing him as the least psychotic of the bunch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He just grins, the thought of what they plan to do with me exciting him in a way that reminds me that these guys lack every quality that makes them human. They’re the grim reapers. Why do I keep expecting them to respond and react in a normal way? They’re not normal, far from it.
Seeing his brother’s excitement, Roman decides to take pity on me and offer me just a snippet of information. “You will earn food and water, Empress. Nothing will come to you for free, so consider the dress, accommodation, and your final meal as gifts.”
“Kill me now,” I mutter to myself before repeating his words. “I have to earn food and water? Look around you. It’s more than clear that you assholes already have enough hired help to keep your big-ass house running. You don’t need me slaving over you. What’s your game here?”
“You will not cook and clean,” Marcus spits, looking at me as though I’m stupid for clearly not reading their twisted minds.
I pull back, my chin raising as realization dawns. “You want me to be your little sex slave?” I screech. “Over my dead fucking body. You’re insane if you think I’m about to go spreading my legs for you sick murderers. What the hell is wrong with you? There would be plenty of willing chicks out there who would be down for your kinky asses. What’s the deal? You like it when they scream for you to stop?”
Roman’s eyes narrow. “We don’t rape women to get what we want from them.”
“Well you sure as shit ain’t getting me on my knees.”
His lips pull up into a smug grin, almost as though he knows something that I don’t, and damn it, that smile is as lethal as they come. I can only imagine what a real one would look like, but I’m not down to wait and figure it out.
I shake my head and stand, hating the feel of the cold marble beneath my bare feet. “I’m out,” I tell them, glancing around the table, still unable to believe that we’re in the middle of some bullshit dinner party. I mean, I expected a number of things to happen tonight, but this? Hell to the freaking no. “I’m not down for your twisted mind games and bullshit threats. Either kill me now or let me go.”
All three of them just stare at me, and I can only imagine the things going through their minds. When none of them decide to grace me with a response, I make my move, knowing that it could land me in a world of trouble.
I turn and walk for the door, holding my chin up with pride and foolishly hoping that they’ve had enough fun to allow me to walk straight out the door.
The sound of a chair scraping against the ground echoes through the room, but I don’t dare turn back. Instead, I pick up my pace, certain that someone is coming for me. My feet move faster as my heart pounds in my chest, and just as I reach the massive double doors, Roman's dagger plunges deep into the wood of the frame, mere inches from my face.