Fate of a Faux (Lords of Rathe #2) Read Online Meagan Brandy, Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Forbidden, Paranormal Tags Authors: , Series: Amo Jones
Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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She presses a hand to her chest. “Be safe, son. I’ll have the one-on-ones moved to another time.”

I stare into her eyes a long moment and when her lips curve the smallest bit, I nod. “Yes, Mother.”

I step right through, Vicente at my back.

I don’t know what we’re headed into, I don’t know who the fuck this shifter is, but it doesn’t matter.

For Vicente to lead us here, he must know something, and if there’s one thing my brothers and I are good at, it’s getting what we want from a person.

Even if we have to tear it from them one drop of blood at a time.

My memory flashes to the night I had bit into London’s thigh hard enough to draw blood, and it makes my own pump harder in my veins.

Yeah, thank fuck those one-on-ones were cancelled or I might have done something real fucking stupid… like bend her over the table and fuck her until she bled.

Sighing, I push to the front of the group, throwing the broken wooden door open at the end of the hall.

Wide, yellow eyes meet mine on the other side, and then the fucker does something I hoped he would.

He runs.

The four of us chuckle as I peel my suit jacket from my body, tossing it to the side.

“Ready or not, motherfucker…” and then all at once, we split in every direction. I take off in a heavy run, everything around me turning black except for the pounding shadow of a human form flashing red. Picking up my pace, I tear open the buttons of my shirt, my hands coming into view for a second. My skin grey and sleek, my nails pointed sharp and black. I feel the hunger of death rush through my veins the faster I pump my legs. I need to feel him. To feel his blood wash over me the same way I’m sure my father’s did him.

My evil doesn’t just hover above the surface, he rears his ugly head in full view and when my teeth sharpen, I know I’m in form.

The red figure gets closer and closer, and as soon as he crashes into my chest, my evil is away and my human form hands are around his neck and all-night vision gone.

His yellow eyes stare back at me with panic, his lips puckered with fear. “I don’t know what you’ve heard!” Tilting my head, I move his long hair from his ear and bite at him.

“A fucking fox...”

“Figures...” Sin grabs him by the ear and throws him against the wall behind us. People are walking up and down the alley, but none of them take notice of us. Running with the air of protection, it wasn’t going to happen fast.

I swipe his blood off my mouth. “Get up.”

The fox stumbles on two legs, pressing his hands against the brick wall. He squeezes his eyes closed the closer I get, until my boots touch his feet. “I’m going to kill you, but first, show me what I want to see...” Drawing out one single nail, I stab it into his temple and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

The room is dim, filled with dark smoke and any time I try to wipe my eyes clean, it fills the space more. Whoever it is they’re protecting is strong, because this fox wouldn’t be enough to block me out. Footsteps echo and I follow the pounding of feet. It’s useless me being here since his mind is guarded by someone even more powerful than a Royal. I’m about to withdraw my fingers when mumbling catches my attention. I try to follow the words, the soft tones. Step after step, their voices grow clearer until a loud piercing scream erupts through my ears.

I pull back, sneering at the fox.

He gives me a sly smirk, before bringing his hand up to his throat, and slicing the sharp end of his nail across his skin. Blood spills from the incision as he falls to the ground.

“Fuck!” I stumble backwards.

“What’d you see!” Vicente asks, searching my eyes. The desperation we all have, to find the killer, can’t damage the process. I can see it from here how fiercely he wants to find the person or persons, as do I.

“Absolutely fucking nothing.”

London

I'm not sure what the hell those brothers are up to—mainly Knight, if I’m allowed to even call him that in my head—but I know it can't be good. From what I could tell, most of their attention remained on me all through the luncheon. Gauging by the odd and downright murderous expressions I've had pointed my way while we wait around for the man of the hour—or you know, century, whatever—to come back and once again grace us with his presence for the bullshit one-on-one we are apparently mandated to attend.


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