Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
But as she stood in front of this immortal, she knew that none of it meant anything. He could overpower her in an instant. And that only made her want him more. So it was official—she was indeed fucked in the goddamn head.
“You’ll be attending the festivities tomorrow evening, yes?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. We’ll talk more about this, then. Or maybe we’ll skip the talking.”
She went still as something seemed to stroke over her very being. Something old and dark and powerful. And the sensation … it was like nothing she’d ever before experienced. It was as if every nerve-ending went up in flames. Little bumps swept over her skin, and cold fingers danced down her spine.
Cain hummed. “I’d wondered if your soul might be unresponsive, what with it being undead, but it isn’t. Far from it. When we last talked, you asked if my being able to touch your soul meant I could cause you pain. I can. But I can also make you come harder than you ever have in your life. There’s nothing more sensitive than the soul. It’s just one big erogenous zone.” He gave her a pointed look. “Think on that.” He turned his back on her—a silent dismissal.
Shaken in more ways than one, she took the hint and left, following the winding, twisting path. She didn’t speak as Maxim escorted her out of the Keep, her thoughts a massive jumble.
She’d known Cain wanted her, so his declaration hadn’t come as some great shock. It hadn’t been entirely expected, though, either. When a being was as other as Cain, you couldn’t really ‘expect’ anything of them.
Damn, she still felt a little tingly from when he’d stroked her soul.
Stroked. Her. Soul.
Now that she knew exactly what he’d meant by how sensitive a person’s soul was, she was hoping there’d never be a time that he’d decide to demonstrate what kind of intense physical pain he could now inflict on her.
I can also make you come harder than you ever have in your life.
Well, she wasn’t going to think about that.
After crossing the bailey, she headed straight home. Her entire crew was scattered around the living room, drinking tea and looking a little drained. They were no doubt tired from how hard they’d worked to get prepped for their ‘shop’ opening tomorrow. Not that it was stopping Delilah and Anabel from sniping at each other.
“What’s going on?” asked Wynter.
“She”—Anabel jabbed a finger in Delilah’s direction— “is blaming me for the wolf attack I told you about. She’s saying it was my fault that I died that day.”
“If you hadn’t stepped foot on his territory, it wouldn’t have happened,” said Delilah. “You could have stayed away. But oh no. You pulled a Little Red Riding Hood, and you paid the price. Simple.”
Anabel’s lips parted. “Paid the price? I was eight years old. Have some compassion.”
“It interferes with my choices.”
“It should. Maybe if you let it, you wouldn’t have started brewing your precious karma potions and then you wouldn’t have a bounty on your head.”
“I don’t know what you all have against my acting on behalf of karma. My family’s been doing it since our line first began. It’s in my blood, and I’m proud of it.”
“I don’t know how you can possibly be proud of being a descendant of the Black Annis, even if it does mean you can shapeshift into a monstrous saber-toothed cat. That crone was evil.”
“She was brilliant.”
“She ate children.”
“Well, we don’t talk about that.”
Wynter lifted a hand. “All right, just stop. I shouldn’t need to point out that this conversation is heading nowhere.” She blew out a breath.
Xavier studied her. “You look kind of flustered. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” said Wynter. “Just annoyed with Grouch.”
“The blacksmith who pointed a sword at your neck?” he asked.
She nodded. “One and the same. He’s telling everyone that I’m going to hex his shop. It got back to Cain, who then had Maxim escort me to him.”
“You went to see Cain?”
“Not willingly.”
Xavier studied her face and then grinned. “He made a play, didn’t he?”
Damn the perceptive bastard. “No—”
“He did.” Xavier let out a teasing chuckle. “I doubt he even believed Grouch. He wanted you there so he could hit on you.”
Delilah leaned forward in her seat. “Xavier’s right, isn’t he?”
Wynter grunted.
Anabel rubbed at her arm. “This isn’t good. Not at all. What are you going to do?”
Wynter knew what she should do—stay the hell away from this person who could possibly ferret out her secrets. Besides, she didn’t want to be an immortal’s toy. But … he’d like the chase. She saw that in him. Saw that he wouldn’t easily give up. And she couldn’t delude herself into believing that she’d manage to hold out against him.
Would it be better to give in, enjoy one night, and then move on? Maybe. She really didn’t know.