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)
…
I’m not little at all.
And what did he mean I was filthy?
Tracing the footsteps toward the large tub in the center of the room, movement catches my attention from the wall that’s suspended there.
What the fuck is this?
Reaching up, the girl copies my movements. Her hand is my hand. My face is her face.
I shove the small bottles on the counter aside, desperate for a closer look. My hair is dark and cascades down over slender shoulders. Beneath the grime coating my face, I can see the color of my skin, tan from the sun. I touch the two jewels embedded at the edges of my temples—one red, one blue, both having been there since I was born. Or so the island witch had said.
Is this what a mirror does? Shows you a different side of you? A weaker, softer side?
Is that who I become if I don’t get out of this fancy fucking castle? Back to the dirt and decaying trenches that make my life make sense?
Panic spikes through my veins as my attention darts around the room. Scrambling through the bedroom, the soft covers of the bed brush my palms and I tear them off before hurling them over the reflection wall.
I breathe out a silent sigh. The fuck is up with that?
Is that girl in the mirror the one he wants me to be? Because fuck all that. I will cut off his cock and make a serpent stew out of it. Serve it to him on the coals of a dragon’s nest, and laugh as I watch it burn his lips from his face.
There’s a rap on the door but I don’t bother turning. Anyone willing to try to kill me is either worth dying for, or worth the killing.
“Haide, hello, I’m Anaya, your handmaiden and confidant.”
I turn at her announcement because she’s neither of those things. But she is fucking stupid.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She blinks at me, half of her face veiled behind a thin piece of white cloth. Her eyes are as blue as mercy, her skin pristine, not at all like mine. “Your handmaiden. I am honored to be here. Before you, females were not allowed to work the royal home per the fallen Queen Cosima’s orders, as her sons lived under this roof. My job is to help you—”
I take a step closer.
Her attention drops to my feet before slowly crawling back up to my face. Her fear leaves a stale smell in the air, not quite potent enough to drown out Lord Asshole’s though.
“Oh really?” I ask, studying her. What did she look like beneath the veil? “And who sent you?”
Her legs tremble. “Ah—it, it was King Lege—”
My hands are on her cheeks in an instant and I twist until I feel the bones in her neck snap.
Tossing her body down to the floor, I don’t blink, keeping my focus pinned on the small frame on the wall. A black box stares back at me.
Straightening my shoulders, I finally blink when my vision burns. “I don’t speak royal.” I shrug down at the dead girl. “Sorry.”
I pause.
Ooooh. She’s not coming back to life…’cause we’re not on the island.
Shit. I could have asked her about the fucking tub before eliminating her. That would have been so much smarter.
Maybe my kill streak has gone soft and she’s still breathing?
I lift the veil from her face. Flawless skin that reminds me of something I’ve never witnessed. It’s a feeling. Nothing like her could ever exist on Exile Island. For good reason.
The veins in her neck are swollen against the newly purple shade of her skin.
“Damn. No chance of you telling me how to get clean then, is there?” I joke, pushing back to my feet just as the door creaks behind me.
“Good morning, Haide!” The first thing I notice about the new girl is the brilliant crimson shade of her hair. “I’m your new maiden,” she starts, until her attention shifts to the body on the floor. For a moment, I see it. That flicker of weakness that spreads over her features.
That is why I will never see anyone for more than what they are.
Prey.
Her shoulders stiffen. She’s small. Maybe smaller than the first girl, but when I take the first step, her body doesn’t tremble. She doesn’t cower. Her gaze burns with brown ember. She smells of something sweet that I can’t place, and—
My focus sharpens. “Do you smoke?”
She hesitates. “Maybe.”
My brows lift.
She crosses her arms, shrugging. “Okay whatever, yeah, I do. Why? You gonna snitch? Because let me tell you, I don’t even want to be here. Honestly, I volunteered as soon as Anaya’s orb turned black. Figured you might just be as foolish as we’ve heard and kill me too so I can ascend and—”
“Stop talking. Give me a fire breath.”
She glances between my outstretched hand and my face. “A what?”