Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I didn’t answer, too stunned to speak.
“I’m going to guess that Ariel was your first crush. She lost her voice and couldn’t talk, for some reason. I think you’d appreciate that. A woman not having a voice makes it easier for you to control them, and from where I’m standing, that’s all you’re about.”
My chest rose and fell with each thorough analysis that left her mouth.
“Then,” she said, “there’s the skull on your chest with the same date that’s carved into the tree. 10-31-12. But that’s only part of it. You have the same initials tatted over your heart that are on your blazer emblem. It’s different from mine. It’s different from all of ours. You and Caspian have the same one. I’m assuming all your buddies do. I just haven’t figured out what the initials mean, and I know you won’t tell me. You won’t tell me anything.” She didn’t take a breath. “These tattoos aren’t just art on your skin, Onyx. No, they're much deeper than that. They’re your ancestry, and you wear them like an altar.”
With my heart in my throat, I sneered, “Who told you that?”
“Told me what?”
“Any of it.”
She blinked, baffled by my outburst. “No one.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, studying her in the same way she just dissected me. “You’re fucking lying.”
“Why? Because I can read you?”
“These tattoos took me years to plan.” My tone was uneven. I couldn’t hide it now. “I designed them before a needle touched my skin. I have over a hundred hours of art done.”
Her eyes drifted back to my art. “It shows. You wear the altars well, almost like you were born with them on your flesh.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Then answer me. Who the fuck told you all that?”
She jerked back by the drastic change in my voice, simply stating, “You did.”
My eyebrows pinched together, hearing her admit that to me.
“Your fingertips are all over those tattoos. It’s not just art reflecting back at me.” She paused for a second, rasping, “All the bright, dazzling colors, all the history, it speaks to me. Actually, it’s not speaking. It’s screaming. It’s your soul, Onyx Devereaux. It’s shouting for me.”
Something inside me broke in two. She had no idea who she was fucking with, not one clue of what she spoke about, and I was going to make sure she understood that.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
She stood tall. “Hennessy Belladonna, and since you think I’m a witch, I’m assuming you’ve heard about my father’s lineage, but you don’t see me losing my shit over it. I wasn’t trying to—”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you were trying to do.”
She winced, muttering, “Onyx—”
“You don’t get to say my name as if you know me.”
“I never said I did. I was just saying—”
“I know exactly what you were saying.” I glared at her. “Out here in the fucking woods in shorts your ass is barely covering and a top that’s doing one hell of a job at pretending to cover your tits.”
She recoiled as if I’d slapped her. “Eres un pendejo.” She called me an asshole.
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Finally, you’re seeing me for who I really am.”
Hennessy
His words hit harder than they should’ve, especially when he walked away from me. His stride held nothing but determination as he grabbed my hoodie off the grass and tossed it toward me.
It landed at my feet, and I stared at it like it was a bomb about to explode.
“Put it on.” Before I could argue, he snidely bit out like the copperhead snake I just encountered, “Your nipples are in my goddamn face.”
I sucked in a breath, instantly looking down. He was right. Despite it being cold outside, heat still stirred down my spine.
Meeting his eyes again, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Problem solved.”
His stare darkened. “Not even close.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“If that were true, then you’d know when to shut your mouth,” I spoke with conviction. “I don’t answer to you.”
“Huh,” I mocked. “Just your daddy then, or is it the Brotherhood who owns your balls?”
If he was surprised that I knew about this so-called Brotherhood, he didn’t show it.
In two long strides, he was in my face. “Go home.”
I didn’t cower. “No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“You invaded my territory,” I called out. “You go home.”
“I am home. You’re on my property.”
I peered past him, toward my uncle’s estate. “I’m still on my tío’s—”
“When are you going to learn…” he interrupted, leaning forward, inching toward my lips. “I own everything.”
My stomach dropped. I never expected his next declaration.
* * *
With a menacing expression, he growled, “Including you, Belladonna.”
Chapter
Thirteen
Hennessy: It’s better to be alone than to be in bad company.
“¡En tus sueños!” I roared, “In your dreams.”