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)
“It’s not.” My nostrils flare. “Her. She’s gaining strength only because she’s fucking amazing.”
He remains unmoved. “She doesn’t mirror your calm. She doesn’t steady. She accelerates. Every time she’s near, your pulse spikes and your power warps around it trying to ride the storm. You both share nothing of similarities outside of affection, obsession…and this strange conception you have that she’s your mate.”
“Say it again,” I whisper.
“Legend,” Knight warns.
“Say it again,” I repeat, louder. “Look me in the face, without fucking blinking, and tell me she isn’t mine.”
Creed exhales, all long-suffering king. “She isn’t yours.”
I want to tear his head off, feed it to a feral Lycan and burn what’s left of him for all to see as a warning to any who dare speak against the gift the gods gave me. That fate gave me.
If he weren’t my brother, I just might, and now I’m too fucking tired to fight.
“Go fuck yourself,” I say. “And you—” I jab a finger at Knight. “I expected more from you. You know what it becomes, how it mutates you.”
He doesn’t even flinch. “You want my truth? Here.” He bares his teeth without humor. “You smell like her even when she isn’t in the room. Like copper and knives and bad weather. She’s in your blood. But the magic’s wrong. Her weight on you is wrong. It isn’t a match, Legend. If it was, why are you weakening?”
Silence.
I can’t argue with that point, because that is the one consistent theme in terms of bonds.
Creed’s jaw sets. Clearly I’ve pissed off big brother as much as he has me. “You also don’t get to drag his real mating bond to compare to your fake one.”
“Look at that,” Sinner drawls. “We’re all a family of dysfunction.”
I laugh, once. Ugly. “You can all go fuck yourself. I thought we were here to talk about the murders. Why am I hearing each of you bitch about my mate?” I seethe, allowing my eyes to rest on all of them before settling back on Knight. “If you’re quite fucking done, I’ve got some place to be—
“The opening ball tonight.” Knight’s words hit me.
“We’re still doing that? Despite the fact that there’s a murderer on the loose?” Now they’ve all lost their fucking minds.
Sinner shrugs. “It’s an easy way to pluck him out. Put everyone in the same place, you know, old school techniques that the humans used to play to find the guilty one. If another murder happens during the ball, we can rule out all those who attended.”
“And the curfew?” I ask, anger still simmering beneath my skin.
Creed’s voice only heightens that. “It’s still on school grounds.”
I kick out my foot, spreading my legs wide. “Now I have to try to put her in a dress.”
“You’re not taking her to the ball,” Creed says. “There’s too much at stake. We have press. We have higher Argents who will be attending and just waiting for us to fuck up. Haide? She gives that to them easily.”
I grind my teeth, the snarl deep. “She’s coming, and she’s coming with me. And there ain’t shit any of you can do about that.”
Creed studies me a moment, and for a second, I see his hardness soften. I almost see the big brother beneath the hate he has for my mate. “What happened yesterday? When she saw you with Arabella?”
My lip twitches. “Get the fuck out of my head.”
Creed’s brows lift, as if waiting for me to answer.
“She won’t start shit. You can’t expect her to blend in and at the same time keep her exiled.” I shake my head, running my hand down the side of my face. “And besides that, why don’t any of you fuckers give a fuck about my happiness?”
“Happiness?” Creed actually chokes on a laugh. “You aren’t happy. You’re high.”
“Same difference.” I step back from the bone, finally pushing back to my feet. “Bring in mages if it’ll make you feel better. Drug the students. Do whatever the fuck you want, but she’s coming.”
“Legend—”
The door’s already opening for me again. Sinner rises with me out of habit. I ignore Knight’s clear desire to continue the conversation and the way Creed’s fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to drag me back. I give them nothing. Because if I sit in there for a second longer, I know I’ll say some shit I can’t take back.
The long halls swallow my movements as I move faster than I should with how my lungs burn. Faster than I should with my energy levels, a sure tell that I used too much portal and not enough food. Students scatter. Good. Wise.
My door looks like every other heavy wood door in this hall, except it isn’t. There’s a hairline of burning embers around the hinges that says Sinner put his toys on it. I can feel the bindings hum—slick, smirking magic that tastes like violence.