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)
What’s even stranger?
She's not the only one staring.
The girls all share whispers as they look at me, and the server’s hands shake each time they appear at my side to fill my glass or place my food before me.
They jump when I thank them and when they disappear into the air, the hint of rotten cider fills the air, fear.
They fear me.
But why?
Because I saved mine and Zeke’s asses the other night? I hardly did a damn thing, and these people are shifters and Fae and shit. How scary can I possibly seem?
Wait. He said the Fae is no longer here, and I realize then the pink-haired girl is gone.
I lean over, taking my chances and whispering to the black-haired chick. “Where are the Lords?”
Her creepy grey eyes snap my way, narrowing. She stares for a moment then flicks her attention to the left before bringing them back. “They were here when I walked in. They got a call and then all four ran out of here.”
“You would know that if you were ever on time.” My attention snaps past the dark-haired chick to find Alex.
The moment my eyes meet hers, she cowers, shoulders lifting as she abruptly faces forward once more.
I flip her off, even though she’s not looking, and go back to eating. Just as my teeth sink into a freshly cut strawberry, the dark-haired girl’s voice reaches my ears.
“They know who you are.” Her words are like a wind’s whisper and my head snaps in her direction.
A frown crosses my brow when I spot her with a mouthful, her attention pointed at the empty table ahead.
What the hell...
“Stop looking at me,” she says then, and my head whips forward.
The Queen narrows her eyes and I quickly drop mine to my plate.
The girl's lips part slightly, and it’s her voice I’m hearing, but it seems no one else can tell. I force myself to take another bite, waiting for more.
“I’m carrying my voice to you, you fool,” she chastises. In my peripheral, I see her look the opposite way of me. “Your eyes. They turn black when your gift surfaces.” So, I’ve heard. “The only person in our history that has happened to are the fallen kings and queens of our past... and The Slasher.”
A thunder cloud sparks above us not a moment after the name leaves her lips and I remember what the maiden said—his name is not used here.
The Queen's chair scrapes against the ground and my eyes slice her way.
“You’re no queen, so that means you’re a dead bitch walking.” The dark-haired girl smirks to herself, sitting back in her seat.
The Queen’s palms are pressed to the table, but she doesn’t stand.
Instantly, my legs begin to tremble.
They can’t know.
My dad’s eyes turned fucking black?! Great! So much for blending in!
I jump as the doors at the end of the hall burst open and the Ministry walk in, several guards at their backs, their ski masks pulled low to hide their identity.
It's the first I've seen them here at the fortress and the way my hackles rise, my fingers aching to the point of pain, that I know it’s because of me.
Do they really know about my dad, or is grey-eyed bitch just trying to scare me away?
Oh fuck, what if Knight told them what I did to him? You can’t use magic against the rightful King, against any of the Royal Family, and not pay for it with your life.
My panic settles a little when the Ministry doesn’t start screaming and shouting and demanding my head, but rather step up to take their seats at the left of the room. They speak amongst themselves as their food is delivered, but then the masked men draw my attention.
They walk in a single file line, marching silently across the long stretch of the dining hall, but every four feet taken, one guard at the front takes a sidestep, then faces the room as the others keep moving past.
They're placing themselves four feet apart across the entire perimeter.
My panic is back full force because while I might not have been raised here, the Giftless do some fucked up hazing shit I've stumbled across at college. I know a game of cat and mouse when I see one. If the girl is being honest, I’m the fucking mouse in this trap.
They've yet to reach this side of the room, so I quietly rise, excusing myself for the restroom, but the moment my feet hit the floor for the first step, silence begins to fall over the space.
I take a second step, and then another, and then...
“She’s running!”
“Get her!”
“Stop, daughter of The Slasher!”
Oh shit!
“She killed the King!”
Oh. Fuck.
I take off, my feet pumping widely, and I silently thank myself for choosing sandals today. I run out the door, focusing on the latch a moment, hoping I can somehow figure out how to lock it, but rather than the bolt turning, the whole fucking thing explodes like a bomb. Flames and smoke barrel outward until the entire wall is hidden.