Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“This isn’t just any woman, Cal,” Rook says. “This is her.”
The word lands heavier than it should.
Her.
Fated mate.
Mine.
“Oh fuck,” Cal breathes. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Kane. Do not tell me this is what I think it is. Please, do not fucking tell me.”
Sorry, brother, but it is. It most certainly is.
I adjust a still-bucking Blair on my shoulder. And I know it’s high time I stop tiptoeing around the truth. Clearly, my brothers know.
“Cal, you remember when you asked Rook if it was immediate with Kylie?” I toss out, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. Between the pulsing bond that threads me to Blair and the reality of what I’ve done, I’m a bundle of nerves. “Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact, immediate.”
Rook looks up toward the ceiling, running a hand through his dark hair.
Cal stares at me with his jaw gaped open.
Both of their minds are probably racing with the reality—I’m still twenty-seven years old. The change, this bond, isn’t supposed to be possible until I turn twenty-eight. And sometimes, even then, it can take male vampires until they’re thirty to find their fated mate.
As far as we all know, this is too early. This shouldn’t even be possible. And yet my body recognized her like it had been waiting for her for centuries.
Silence crashes down around us.
Blair is still fighting me. She’s still terrified and thinking I ruined her life. And she most certainly has no clue that I just declared open war to keep her breathing.
The elites won’t call this a misunderstanding. They’ll call it retaliation. Add in the fact that they were already hunting us because of Kylie, and it’s clear shit has hit the proverbial fan.
Not only did I kill two more of their gofers, I took from an important elite. Damien Snow believes Blair is his, and I’ve stopped that. To him, to them, I’ve stolen something they believe is rightfully theirs.
They won’t ignore that. They won’t forgive it.
And the irony of it all? Blair Windsor doesn’t even want to be here.
But I’d rather she hate me than be dead.
If I could do it all over again, I’d do worse if I needed to. For her.
That realization settles deep in my chest like a promise.
This war isn’t theoretical anymore.
It’s here.
And I just lit the match.
Blair
His name is Kane.
And though he might look similar, he is nothing like the fantasy man represented by my doll.
He’s domineering and preachy, and every time I question the insane choice to kidnap me, he plays it off like he’s some kind of savior.
As if his behavior isn’t bad enough, he’s not alone in this charade either. I don’t know how many other people are here, but I know no one told Kane he was acting like an insane person. No one tried to assist me. No one tried to remove me from his shoulder and help me escape.
Which makes them, at the very least, complicit.
Now, he’s carrying me up a flight of stairs like I weigh nothing, like I may as well be a freaking jacket made out of feathers. He moves down a hallway, the heavy sounds of his boots echoing inside my ear with each step, and he doesn’t stop walking until we’re in a small, depressingly rustic room.
When my eyes catch sight of a bed, fear clutches my throat. He drops me onto it, and my body hits the mattress with a gentle thud.
Instantly, I scramble upright and put as much distance between him and me as I can, my body shaking at thoughts of the worst. I’ve already lost my autonomy; I can’t lose my virginity too. Not like this.
“Why are you doing this?” I scream, the sound tearing out of my throat so hard it aches. “What do you want from me?” My voice is so loud and so real that it bounces off the walls.
For a split second, I sit there in shock. Earlier, in my driveway, and when we came into the house, I was trying to yell so hard that my throat burned, but there was no sound. And now it’s back.
He turns calmly, shuts the door, and I don’t miss how the metallic lock clicks deliberately into place. I’m overwhelmed and terrified, and I know without a doubt that I have nothing to lose. It never gets better from this point on when I watch crime shows—it gets messy and violent.
“You cannot lock me in here!” I shout, jumping off the bed and storming toward him. “Do you know who I am? Do you understand the mistake you’ve made?”
“Yes, I know who you are.” The calm in his voice makes me want to throw something. “But this wasn’t a mistake. This was necessary, Blair. For both of us.”
“I was supposed to be in New York!” I yell. “I was supposed to be meeting someone very important. I was supposed to—”