Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
It’s been ages since we threw one ourselves, but with the move into the new pad, it’s the perfect fucking occasion.
Tonight, we open the doors to our home for the people of Rathe for the first time.
London
I’m drunk and it’s fucking glorious.
The last few months have been the most challenging of my life, and for a moment there I wasn’t so sure I would ever be able to just ... be.
Yet, here I stand, at the edge of the room, the toes of my heels literally lining up against the point of the basement where the corner walls should be, but magic is fucking amazing, so there are none. It’s nothing but endless clouds and dark skies before me.
Just outside the space, the races are in full swing, and I watch as Ben, who is a fucking ginormous dragon now, moves up to the starting line, a smaller female to his right. Her scales shine a deep purple, her eyes a perfect match.
The pair huff and rumble, crouching their necks and perching in preparation.
A star explodes above them, and they burst, disappearing through the skies, leaving nothing but a trail of smoke in their wake.
A small laugh falls from my lips and I down what’s left of the black, glittery liquid Creed poured for me.
It's like an injection straight to the vein, my eyes flickering and muscles going limp in an instant. Fuck, I needed this.
My body is light and free, which is so odd when this realm’s greatest gift exists beneath my skin, it’s embedded in the deep slices of my forearms—the ashes of the bones of royal ancestors, my gift from the fallen King.
A Deveraux demon.
My demon.
The power that haunts beneath my skin is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, it is beyond comprehension. It's an utterly unmatched feeling, yet somehow... nothing could compare to the heat of my mate’s hands when he slides up behind me, curling his giant body over mine. He buries his head in my neck, his hot tongue flicking over the newest bite mark there, one bigger and deeper and on the opposite side of the original.
What can I say, he’s savage in his claiming and I fucking love it.
I love him.
My eyes close and I smile into the darkness of the space, the party loud and booming behind me. “Ben won again.”
“Good,” Knight murmurs, his palm sliding down my side until his hand is skating around my thigh and disappears into the slit of my little black dress. He groans when he finds my present to him. “No panties, baby?”
“Hm,” I hum happily, reaching up to slide my hand in his hair, pushing his face deeper into my neck. “Thought I could sit on your lap on your throne tonight, fuck you slow while everyone watches, having no idea what they’re actually seeing.”
“That is absolutely fucking happening.” He growls, his claws digging into the flesh of my hips, and pressing me further against him. “But first, I have a surprise of my own.”
“Should I be terrified or happy about that?”
Knight’s dark chuckle falls over me, but it's not his voice who says, “I’d hoped you’d be happy, Queen Deveraux.”
My body goes stiff in Knight’s warm hold and slowly, I tug myself free, turning just as cautiously.
A harsh exhale pushes past my lips when my eyes meet the gentle, weathered ones across from me.
“Hey there, Little Crow.”
“Uncle Marcus.” I swallow, tears pooling in my eyes. It only takes me a moment and then I’m throwing myself into his arms, crying into his chest. "You’re here.”
You’re really alive.
“Hey, now,” he whispers softly, smoothing the hair down my head like he always did when I was a child. “You wouldn’t want your people to kill me for making their Queen cry, now, would you?”
I scoff, pulling back to look at him, but when Knight’s hands slide around my middle and he tugs me back into his embrace, I go willingly, smiling up at my uncle ... glaring a second later.
“You knew I wasn’t normal and you didn’t tell me.”
“I wasn’t allowed to tell you, honey,” he says softly. “I was under orders of our King, to protect and shield you from this place.” He looks around, a deep sense of longing written across his features. He's missed his home. “From what I’ve been told, it wasn’t you that needed shielding.”
I shrug, unsure of what to say. “You’ll stay, right?”
Something crosses his features, sorrow and regret and a few more emotions I can't name, and he points a sad smile toward the clouds. “I have something I must do, and it may take time.”
I want to argue, to tell him no, that he has to stay, but my uncle, or Knight’s actual uncle and the man who raised me, had a life before he was “honored” with the task of caring for the future Queen of Rathe. So, while it takes a lot of effort on my part, I nod my understanding. “Come see me when you get back.”