Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
The glass shattered in Ash’s hand.
Gasping, I shot to my feet as liquor and glass fell across his knee and onto the floor. Streaks of red smeared his palm. “You cut yourself.”
“I’m fine.” He closed his fingers over the pieces of glass.
“You’re cutting yourself even more!” I bent, grasping his hand as I brushed the shards of glass from his knee and the settee. The charge of energy was stronger. Blood welled between his fingers. “Good gods,” I whispered, returning to sit beside him. “Open your hand.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Open your hand, Ash!”
He made no move to do so.
Cursing, I pried his fingers loose. Pieces of glass were embedded deep into his palm, slicing through the golden swirl. The slices free of glass had already begun to heal. “I know you’re a Primal,” I said, straightening his hand out as I placed it against my knee. “And you’ll heal just fine, but I’m also pretty sure you won’t with glass in your hand.”
“You’re going to get blood on your dress,” he stated.
“I don’t care.” I picked out a sliver of glass, dropping it onto the small table. “It’s not like I’ll wear it again.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think one wears their wedding dress more than once.” I dug out another larger piece. Ash hissed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t—” He drew in a deep breath. “Don’t apologize. Don’t thank me.”
I briefly closed my eyes, cursing at myself. I wanted to apologize again because I’d obviously said the wrong thing.
“And you can wear the damn dress again whenever you feel like it.”
Nodding, I swallowed as I plucked out another piece. The scent of his blood washed over me as I smoothed my thumb over the imprint, searching for specks of glass I couldn’t see.
“Is that why you call me Ash now?”
“What?” I looked back at him.
His flesh had thinned, deepening with shadows. “Because you learned that I’ve been Veses’ personal blood meal and suddenly realized you wanted to be my Consort?”
“No.”
His beautiful mouth twisted into a cold, cruel smirk. “Really, liessa?”
“No,” I repeated. “I told you I wanted to be your Consort before.”
“But that changed.”
“It did. Because I didn’t know everything when it came to her, and I…” I turned back to his palm, seeing that several more places still seeped blood. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”
“You won’t.”
I scraped a tiny piece of glass out with my nail. “I just did.”
“That has nothing to do with you,” he bit out. “Speak.”
His tone would’ve set me off at any other time, but not now. “My feelings were hurt when I saw you two together. That changed what I wanted. You know that. But now that I know why you two…were together, my thoughts on it have changed.”
“We weren’t together,” he stated, and the temperature of the room dropped.
“I know. I…” Despite him demanding that I speak, he was the one that needed to, but only if he wanted to. Other than what I knew I needed to say, I had to shut the hell up. “What you did to protect me isn’t why I feel that way. I wanted to be more to you than a Consort in title only before I learned about that. What it did was help me understand a bit of what I saw. We don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.” I looked over my shoulder once more. “But know that if you don’t kill her, I will find a way to do it myself.”
He stared at me for a moment and then laughed. Deeply. Hard.
“I’m being serious,” I told him.
“Not a single part of me doubts that.”
I held his gaze. “The bitch is dead.”
“Agreed.”
“Good.” I returned to his palm, carefully plucking out the remaining glass. I only knew I’d gotten them all when no fresh blood seeped. “All done.”
“Thank you,” he said roughly.
Pressing my lips together, I ran my finger across his palm—over the golden swirl. I reached the end near his thumb and then his fingers curled, threading through mine. His blood stained both our hands, but him holding mine was a…well, a beautiful sight. I brought our joined hands to my mouth and placed a kiss on the top of his.
His shudder flowed through to me.
Minutes ticked by.
“I didn’t want you to know,” he uttered. “I didn’t want you to feel responsible.”
I fought the urge to tell him that what I felt was the last thing he needed to be worried about.
“And I…I didn’t want you—anyone—to know what kind of control she had. What kind of complication she is,” he continued after a moment, speaking to the back of my bowed head. “Attes knows she feeds from me, but he doesn’t know why. Only a few do. But we were never together. She fed from me. Sometimes, she made it pleasurable. Other times, it burned like the Abyss. And if I disagreed with where she wanted to feed from, it was almost always the latter in terms of how she did it. I actually preferred when it was that way. It was far better than the alternative. Gaining any sort of pleasure from her was—and is—the last thing I want. But the only thing of mine she has ever had in her is my blood.”