Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“What… What happened?” I ask, my voice a hoarse whisper.
Rogan doesn’t reply. He walks away from me, and I close my eyes against the brightness once more. My heart is hammering, and my stomach is finally settling down. My thoughts are still jumbled.
My stepfather? The demon king?
In a way, this new fact makes the most sense of any of this mess. I always knew the jerk was evil. I just didn’t know how evil.
“Rogan,” I eke out.
No response.
“Rogan! Help me. He said he’d … My sister… I can’t…”
Again, no response.
“Rogan. Please.”
I force myself to sit up. Where is my purse? My phone? I pat myself down and find my phone in my back pocket. My purse strapped around my body.
Larissa. I’ve got to call Larissa.
Except my fingers aren’t working. Am I dreaming? I have a recurring dream where I can’t find the contacts on my phone. Can’t call 911.
The phone drops from my hand and lands in the grass with a dull thud.
I rub my forehead. Come on, Hannah. Don’t wimp out. You can do this.
I inhale—
My phone appears in front of me…in Victor Rogan’s strong hand.
Strong human hand.
I look up and meet his gaze as I take my phone from him. A spark shoots through me as our hands brush.
Make that a big spark.
“Princess,” he says, his voice a husky rasp.
“R-Rogan.”
“Are you all right?”
“I think… Durgs… I mean drugs… How did he… I mean… What did he…”
Words jumble in my head like a cloud made of floating black letters. I can pick out words but I can’t seem to string them together. Will I ever be able to utter a coherent sentence again?
“Easy.” Rogan moves behind me and massages my shoulders.
Is this Victor Rogan? Taking care of me? Being…nice?
“Feels good,” I murmur.
“This is my fault,” he says. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“You left me in your penthouse,” I say. At least I try to say it. It comes out more like you lifted pin house.
“I thought I knew everything about you, princess,” he says. “Turns out I was wrong.”
“Wrong about what?” I say slowly. Slowly helps. The words sound intelligible.
“The demon king. I’ve never seen him in person. Hardly anyone has. I had no idea. I know who he is, of course, but I didn’t know his connection to you.”
“Neither did I.” Again slowly, with enunciation.
The massaging stops abruptly. I open my mouth to ask him to continue, but—
He’s in front of me—naked and glorious…and his gorgeous eyes filled with rage.
“Don’t lie to me, princess.”
“I’m not. I swear I’m not.”
“Your pupils are dilating. Did you forget I can tell when you’re lying?”
My heart is still beating harder than normal, and this isn’t helping. “I’m not lying.”
He gazes into my eyes. “Care to explain the dilation?”
“I can’t.” Still slowly. I’m determined to make every word count. “Maybe whatever he drugged me with. I swear to God I didn’t know my stepfather was king of the demons.”
He narrows his eyes, studies me closely.
“Staring at me harder isn’t going to change anything. It’s not a fucking lie, Rogan.”
Finally he pulls back and sits down across from me. My eyesight is returning to normal, and I don’t hate the sight of his naked body.
I really don’t hate it.
He stays silent for seconds that seem like hours, until—
“I believe you.”
I keep my eyes from popping out of their sockets. “You do?”
“Yes, Hannah, I do.”
Hannah. He called me Hannah. And I still love the sound of my name from his full and kissable lips.
“How did you find me?” I ask. Speaking comes much easier now.
“I’ll always find you,” he says. “We’re bound together now. As mates.”
Then he pulls me into his arms and kisses me hard.
23
My lips open of their own accord.
He believes me. He believes me.
This is huge.
I still don’t know what his motive is, why he left me alone at his place, how he found me…but he believes me.
And he called me Hannah.
This isn’t love. Is it? Not that I’d know, anyway.
But it’s something—this undeniable pull. Do I believe I’m his fated mate? Not really, but I can’t deny the chemistry between us.
Or maybe it’s still the drugs King Richard dosed me with.
Whatever it is, I’m not in any condition to deny him. Hell, I don’t want to deny him.
I’m going to let him do whatever he wants right here in the grass. I have no clue where we are anyway.
Doesn’t matter that he may be responsible for a couple vamp murders. Doesn’t matter that I’m bound to give the evidence, if I find it, to my father. Doesn’t matter that my stepfather, the demon king, has ordered me to fabricate said evidence.
In this moment, I’m Rogan’s and he’s mine.
And it’s good. It’s really good.
He slides me into a supine position and hovers above me, our mouths fused. In a flash, he rolls to his side, bringing me with him.