Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
She play punched his arm. “Asshole.”
Humming in amusement, he pressed a kiss to her mouth. “So violent.”
“So irritated.” She huffed. “Can’t you let a girl enjoy her post-orgasm buzz?”
“Apparently you also forget I can be a mentally sadistic shit as well.”
She sighed. “Fuck, yeah, I do sometimes forget.”
Gathered around Wynter in the living room the following morning, her coven stared down at the brand-spanking-new seal on her inner wrist.
“Whoa,” breathed Xavier.
Anabel looked at her, dismay in her eyes. “Did Cain use a hot iron on you?”
“No, but it sure looks that way, right?” There was certainly nothing subtle about the seal. Nope. It screamed ownership. But not in a way that felt disrespectful, more like it conveyed her importance to him.
“Then how’d he put it there?” asked Delilah.
Wynter scratched at her cheek. “With a little of his blood, some ancient chanting, and a burst of power.”
Xavier looked from her to the seal and back again. “Did it hurt?”
“Like an absolute bitch.” She felt her lips thin as she recalled Cain’s lack of remorse in not warning her about what level of pain she should expect. It was rather typical of him.
“I’m liking the circle of flames,” said Xavier.
Hattie traced the skin around the seal with her fingertip. “Is it tender?”
“Not anymore,” replied Wynter. “It throbbed for a while last night. The skin around it felt super tight and was all inflamed. But it’s fine now.” And with all the redness gone, the seal looked as if it had been there for years.
She’d woken to the feel of Cain idly dancing his fingertips over it, looking almost enthralled at the sight of it. And smug. Super smug. Then he’d noticed she was awake, flashed her a wicked smile, and fucked her like a savage. The memory made her mouth curve and her belly flutter.
Straightening, Hattie gave a nod. “I like it.”
Smiling at her, Wynter lowered her arm and righted her sleeve. “Thanks, Hattie.”
“I have to ask,” began Anabel, “what’s with the snake-theme that Cain has going on? I mean, there’s one on your seal, and there’s one on his brand that declares people his property. Does it have some kind of meaning?”
“I think maybe Cain has an affinity for them,” said Wynter. “You should see his garden. It’s like a homage to serpents. They’re everywhere.”
Anabel gaped in horror. “Seriously? Oh God, tell me you don’t go there. Tell me you never, ever go there.”
Wynter flicked her hand. “Relax, the place is super cool. It has gargoyles and a bog and gothic-colored flowers and—”
“Snakes. Focus on the issue here.”
“It’s okay. Really. None have ever tried to bite me. And they’re not all highly venomous.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you seem to think it is.”
Xavier curled an arm around Anabel’s shoulders. “Do you really think that Cain would let his pets hurt his woman?”
Anabel’s brow puckered. “Pets?” she echoed, incredulous. “Pets are dogs and canaries and gerbils. They’re not rats or parrots or snakes.”
Delilah frowned. “What’s wrong with parrots?”
Anabel did a slow blink. “They talk, Del. That ain’t natural for an animal. I’m telling you, they’re the devil’s work.”
Letting out a tired sigh, Delilah set her hand on her hip. “You think the devil took the time to make pretty birds?”
“What I think is that the devil knows that people can be so distracted by beauty that they don’t look beneath it. Take my word for it, parrots are his minions. And anyone who’s dumb enough to welcome them into their home, feed them crackers, and call them Polly deserves what they’ll later get.”
Delilah crossed her eyes. “You really do see the prospect of death everywhere.”
“Can you blame me? Each of my past lives ended in tragedy, as you already know. I’ve never once lived to see a ripe old age.”
“And from what I’ve so far gathered, it appears to have been your fault every time.” Delilah began ticking off her fingers as she continued, “You invaded a rabid wolf’s territory in one life, provoked a shark in another—”
“I did not cause my own deaths! I was a victim. Stop twisting my stories. I still can’t believe you managed to find a way to blame me for when I got shot in the face. It’s not like I was holding the gun.”
Xavier blinked. “You got shot in the face?”
“When I was fourteen,” said Anabel. “The bullet went through my eye and into my brain. The local Saxons weren’t big fans of my uncle. I was only his illegitimate niece, but people still figured that my death would serve as an effective deterrent. They were so wrong. He kept on impaling the villagers he captured. I honestly think that the time he spent as a hostage under the Ottoman Empire with my father just messed him up.”
Wynter slanted her head. “Hold up, are you referring to Vlad the Impaler?”