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)
Turning around, I glare at the pristine room, walking over to the golden dresser and throw everything off it with one swipe of my hands. Crystal crashes to the floor, and this time, I do smile, and then I move to the fireplace in the corner. I take the stones from within it and drag them along the walls, scratching and scraping every inch I can reach.
I knock the nightstands on their ass, and tear the drawers from their brackets, shucking the contents all across the room. I shred the sheets next, tearing open the pillows and spilling the red feathers within them all over.
Hopping up, I run back to the fireplace, searching for an on button or book of matches so I can burn this fucking place to the ground, but there is none.
“Because magical motherfuckers don’t need such things to kickstart the flames.” I growl, tugging on my hair as I rush for the bathroom door.
It's made of glass, so I kick it with the bottom of my bare foot over and over until it cracks, and then I throw my shoulder through it, stomping on the glass, ready to destroy everything in sight. The first thing I see when I walk into the giant ass space made of pure glass, is the stand in the corner.
It's an addict's wet dream. Bottle after bottle, of what who the fuck knows because it’s all sitting in crystal decanters, but who fucking cares. It must be something good if it's here.
I head right for it, removing the tops and throwing them behind me.
I swig from the first bottle, shaking my head as it burns its way down and then I drink from the second one. The third, fourth, and so on. Swiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I hold one bottle in the other, using it to knock the rest to the floor. Not all break, but all spill, the liquid rolling over my toes and beyond.
Then I move to the red crystal platter.
Small powder containers are filled to the brim with I can only assume is Fae dust. Some pink, some blue, some pink and blue, but the last one is the one I go for. The one I’m not so sure is like the others. It’s red, gleaming, and something tells me it’s the strongest.
I pull it to my nose, and my eyes roll back at the mouthwatering scent, it’s like sugar-dipped saffron. I pour some between my thumb and pointer finger, licking it off with one swipe.
My body sways instantly and I pull in a full breath, exhaling as my muscles relax. As my insides turn to mush and flutter with excitement. The utter emptiness a fucking gift, now more than ever.
I turn the shower on, peeling my clothes from my skin one item at a time and take another long drink from the bottle. I sway a little, a small, numb smile pulling at my lips, but as I spin back around, I catch my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror, and everything in me freezes.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, stepping closer to the counter.
My fingers tremble as I bring them to my cheeks, hollow as if lacking life, my under-eyes black as if I really am as dead as I feel. The blood on my arms didn’t seem so bad when I first looked down at them, but in this mirror, I see everything. They’re caked, coated, as are my legs.
There’s still a cut on my forehead from where I wouldn’t allow Silver to finish healing me. Blood sticks in clumps of my hair. It's matted and dark and ... not just my blood.
It's ash and glass and yeah, a bit of Legend’s blood too.
I turn my head, spotting the small shards gleaming just before my hairline and rather than look for some tweezers to tug them free, I press my hands down over the spots, rubbing and digging them in further. I rub until they’re imbedded beneath the skin.
Fresh blood leaks into tiny droplets, too small to fall but not too small to see. That's when my eyes snap down, to the spot on my neck.
Teeth marks, deep and proud in the skin.
My fingers brush over the spot and a tingle runs down my arm, through my body until every nerve inside me is alight. My eyes fall to my thighs and I spread them, staring at the mark there as well. It's gleaming, seeming to vibrate beneath my skin, or maybe that’s my chest.
Am I growling?
I grip my throat, feeling the vibrations there and hiding the mark.
My palm shakes and I close my eyes as a shiver races down my spine, but the second I do, I see him.
Dark and deadly. Strong. All-consuming and life altering. Safe.
“No.” I shake my head, forcing my lids open. “Fuck no.”