Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“What the fuck is that?” she mutters, swiping at the blood, but I feel it. Gods, I feel it. The bond convulsing, spinning and shredding, tearing at the edges like reality itself is unraveling.
Like she is unraveling.
The sight of her blood makes my teeth ache. My chest claws inward, heat searing straight through the tether. She thinks it’s just magic, some side effect of her power, as latent as it is at the moment. Maybe even the Argent.
But I know what I’m feeling, and she must be too.
Starvation.
Our bond is starving. She doesn’t understand the pull between us so she mistakes it for nothing at all. She mistakes need for weakness.
And now it makes her bleed, just like it’s been eating away at my energy.
I mean, what else could it be?
My lips curl. “Careful, little monster. You keep fighting the bond, it’ll rip you apart.”
Her laugh is brittle, defiant. “I’d have to feel it for that to happen. Which I don’t.”
“You feel me.”
“I feel…nothing for you.”
The thought makes me unhinged.
I drag my thumb across her jaw, smearing the blood. “Keep saying that. But your body knows. Your bones know. And when you break—because you will—I’ll be right there to bear witness. And when you reach for me, begging me to put you out of your misery, I will do it without hesitation,” I promise.
There’s a flicker of something in her gaze but it fades far too quickly, and then she jerks back. “Fuck off.”
And I grin, wide, feral, manic. “Oh, I plan to. All over you.”
Her pulse thrashes against me, furious. She claws at my chest, shoving hard, but it only makes me laugh. “Go ahead. Fight me. Bite me. Wonder how I’d feel if you bit someone else…”
Her nostrils flare, her teeth flashing like she might do it.
My cocky grin sharpens into something darker. “Pull some shit again, and I’ll show you exactly what it means to be mine.”
Behind me, the cavern begins to groan—sirens scattering as runes flare bright along the bones overhead, warning wards screaming of breach.
My head snaps over my shoulder, seeking out the threat, but I spot nothing, and when I face forward again, Haide is gone.
That same smell from before burns my nostrils.
Rot, hot and fuming.
“Damn that little brat.”
Every one of my senses sharpen instantly, and I whip around, prepared to tear through every single person in this crowd to get to her.
Then I hear the screams.
I follow, shoving past the crowd. Haide stands in the center of the hall, over a body crumpled on the ground, head twisted, eyes glassy.
“It was her!” someone spits, finger stabbing at Haide like a blade.
“She hated her!” another voice snarls.
“Look what you did!”
“What?” Haide throws her hands up, half laughing, half snapping. “You think I, what, strangled her in the middle of a crowd? That’s so boring.”
The boy nearest her surges forward, jaw tight with fury. “It was you.”
I step in before he can touch her, my presence slamming like a wall between them. “Don’t.” My voice cuts, sharper than steel.
The students recoil. Haide glances back at me, throat working, but I don’t let anyone close. Not one step.
This is fucking bad. A murderer right under our noses, on university grounds.
I close my eyes for a moment, linking with my brothers through our royal bloodline.
Another body.
The air warps a heartbeat later. Knight’s shadow. Vicente’s power. London’s scowl as the portal snaps open behind me with Creed the last to charge through.
He examines me before turning his attention to the body, studying the scene before taking in the chaos around us.
“A student,” Vicente rasps, kneeling by the body. His hand gently brushed the girl’s jaw. “Name?”
“Elena something,” someone whispers. “Fae. Argent born.”
Vicente is already pulling through threads of record. His magic cold and efficient. “Elena Darrow.” His gaze cuts to me. “And her roommate…” His jaw tenses.
My head jerks to Haide. “Really?”
Haide tips her head with a smirk, voice cutting through the tension. “Oh, what’s the verdict? You think I snapped her neck clean in front of all of you? Please. If I wanted her gone, you wouldn’t find a body.” She twirls her hand toward the crumpled girl like she’s presenting a piece of bad theater. “There would be ash. Or teeth. Something to make it interesting.”
Gasps ripple through the students. A professor pushes forward. “Do you hear yourself? That is a life at your feet—”
Haide interrupts, laughter bright and edged. “Yes, Professor, I’m very observant. Thank you for the lesson.”
He takes a step closer. My body reacts before my mind does—A low hiss escapes me, dangerous, primal. My power flares and the professor freezes where he stands. “Think very carefully before your next move,” I warn.
His throat bobs, and wisely, he holds.
Vicente doesn’t so much as glance up at the commotion as he continues his examination of the body. His tone is a rasp, rough with certainty. “Cervical fracture. Snapped clean. Not magic or poison. Force.”