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)
They are the reason Haide has lived her entire life on a small, secluded island with a bunch of feral Gifted.
“He’s giving the people what they want.”
Creed chuckles. “You and I both know what Knight is like with bloodshed. We need to talk with the people before it gets out of hand.”
I step backwards, smiling at Creed. I wait until he’s turned his back to me before I inhale all the magic that stirs inside of me, closing my eyes and envisioning a portal opening up in front of me. Cracking my eye open, I gasp. Ice grows around an arch, cracking as it overlaps blood red roses and thorns. The inside swirls with pale white and black colors, and I take one more look behind myself before stepping through.
I didn’t know much about the Ministry, or the people in it. It wasn’t until I became who I was to Knight that I started to take note. Odin was different though, and I can’t explain it in any other way other than I just know.
He remains still, seated on the same chair he always sat on during the meetings they held in this room. The portal slamming closed has me turning, when my eyes collide with Haide.
I raise my brows at her. “You following me now?”
She shrugs, flashing me a wide smirk. “What can I say. I’m loyal.”
I shuffle out of my coat, dropping it onto the back of a chair before taking the spot directly opposite Odin. He follows my movements closely. Seconds pass between us, and it’s not until Haide takes the chair beside me, holding a bottle of alcohol and three glasses that he finally breaks.
“I’m not an enemy to you, or the Lords, London.” He tries to smile, but all it does is come out forced. “In fact, I can show you just how I’m not a threat.”
My eyes fall to his outstretched hand, before coming back up to his face. Leaning over the table, I reach out to touch his when Haide interrupts.
“Stop!” she calls out from the end of the table.
“What?” I ask, waiting for her to give me a reason why.
She rolls her lips into her mouth nervously. “It’s just—he’s the Ministry and you’re allowing him free-range inside your head. He could do anything!”
I look back to Odin. “She has a point.”
Odin lowers his hand, tapping his finger onto the tabletop. “I know. But I’m not going to. I have nothing to hide and the only thing I lived for, was, well—” he pauses, tilting his head. “—you.” He breathes out a sigh. “Look, they’re going to kill me anyway. Your power is much stronger than mine. You could push me out if I was a true threat.”
“He has a point.” I shrug, reaching for his hand. As soon as ours touch, my eyes roll to the back of my head and the room falls away from beneath me…
I drop the withered bag down onto the table with a thud. Thunder claps loudly behind the floor to ceiling glass windows. Fitting. Since I was one hundred percent sure that whatever happened tonight was going to be something to be reminded of.
“Did you bring it?” he asks, removing his long coat and hanging it on the hanger near the entrance. I keep my eyes locked on the bright lights down below, watching as Ordinaries, Mages, and the odd Werewolf mingle amongst each other, scattered through the busy streets of Rathe. Unknown as to just what was coming. Unfortunately for me, I wasn’t Gifted with the kind of ignorance mere minions have. Not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“On the table.” I bring the glass to my mouth, inhaling the potent smell of aged barrel whiskey. The good kind. If anything, humans sure as hell knew how to brew their liquor. Even without magic.
The rustling of the old canvas bag distracts me as I sink the remainder of my drink, turning to finally face my best friend. Someone I’ve always counted on—even when I couldn’t count on myself. “Is there a reason why you need that?”
“There’s a meaning for everything. But when I leave, I need you to promise me something, Odin. And it needs to go on our friendship.” I pause as he lowers the bag back onto the table, holding my stare. Over the years, age wasn’t kind to him. The more innocence taken, the more the fates would try to enable a balance. It was tiled with him.
“What is it?”
“Villaina, she’s ... important.”
Odin chuckles, glancing toward the door my baby girl sleeps behind. “I am well aware the child is important.”
He's not getting it.
I shake my head. “No, she’s important to Rathe. The fates, they’re upset.”
The constant pounding at my temples doubles and my eyes begin to roll, but I clench them closed. Fisting my knuckles, I use the moisture of my skin to form ice, burning my own flesh until I'm frostbitten to ward off the shadow threatening to take over a few moments longer.