Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
The backs of her eyes stung. Those crazy bastards downstairs looked after her. They really did. And she adored them for it.
Between sips of tea, she made short work of the cupcakes. Only then did she dry herself off and pull on some clothes. She’d no sooner blow-dried her hair than Cain came stalking into the room. And if the menacing look he wore was anything to go by, the time he’d spent torturing the three fey had made him no less livid.
“Did they cry?” she asked him, setting both her brush and hairdryer on the surface of her dresser. “Please tell me they cried.”
“Cried. Screamed. Begged. Mewled like fucking kittens.” Cain rolled back his shoulders and cricked his neck. “I’m so pissed right now I’m tempted to eradicate every member of their court irrespective of those members’ innocence.”
Uh-oh. “Yeah, it’s best you don’t do that.”
His brow flicked up. “Why not?”
It was an honest question. And she didn’t think that telling him “Well, it’s wrong” would really make much of an impact while he was in this mood.
“People more easily risk their own lives than they do those they care for,” he pointed out as he crossed to her. “If it’s made clear that betraying me would lead to not only their own demise but that of their loved ones, just maybe they’ll fucking think twice about doing it. My monster agrees it would be a terrific idea.”
Well, of course the merciless shit did. “Not all the people in the courts and packs and covens actually care for each other, though. Some have only gathered together because there’s safety in numbers.” Wynter curled her arms around his neck and melted into him, hoping to calm and soothe him, but it was truly like pressing her body against a brick wall. “Besides, people are thinking twice before trying to cash in on the bounty.”
He shot her a look of incredulity. “Today’s events would suggest differently.”
“Before that, it had been a while before anyone tried to kidnap me, though, hadn’t it? And it wasn’t until Adam upped the bounty that someone was tempted enough to take a chance. Considering the fey dramatically failed, I doubt anyone else will bother to try. But if you really want to be sure of that, torture your new fey prisoners in public the way you did Shelia.”
He grunted. “I just might do that.” Cupping her hips, he dropped his forehead to hers. “Thank fuck you sensed that you were trapped in an illusion, though I have no idea how you did. Fey magick is very powerful. You shouldn’t have been able to see through it.”
“I had a little help from my monster and Kali.”
“Still, you technically shouldn’t have seen flickers of reality around you as soon as you did. That shouldn’t have happened for at least a few hours.”
Wynter raised and then dropped her shoulder, feeling her mouth curve. “What can I say? I’m awesome that way.” She trailed her fingertips over his nape. “Neither of us have had dinner yet, and the cupcakes I ate didn’t fully hit the spot. Shall we go eat?”
He lifted his head. “I’d much rather slaughter the prisoners’ entire court.”
She could tell he genuinely meant it. Worse, he was sincerely considering it. “Hmm, how about you just fuck me instead?”
He gave her an imperious look. “Do you think you can distract me with sex?”
“What I think is that you’d find it a much more satisfying outlet than murdering innocent fey. Am I wrong?” Please don’t let me be wrong.
The mouth he’d set into a harsh line very slowly began to curl. “No. No, you’re not whatsoever wrong.”
Thank God for that. “Then do me.”
His eyes flared. “It’ll be hard. Rough. You’ll feel how pissed I am in every thrust, and you’ll hurt for me. A lot.”
“Promises, promises.”
They were promises he lived up to.
Chapter Twenty-One
The following evening, Wynter breezed through the city hall with Cain and her coven as they searched for their allocated seats. The Samhain ball was in full swing. Most people sat at the rows of long-ass tables while others danced to the live folk music.
The decorations were more wicca than Halloween-y. Pumpkins, brooms, candles, and bells were scattered here and there, and some were even used as table centerpieces. The colors orange and black were of course used in the décor—orange to symbolize the dawning of light, and black to represent death and the fading of light.
A bonfire crackled in the middle of the hall. It wasn’t natural, of course, it was a product of magick powered by the element of fire. It was thereby harmless, gave off no smoke, and could be extinguished by the click of someone’s fingers . . . disappearing as if it had never been. Wynter was impressed.
As they located their seats, Hattie glanced around. “No butlers in the buff tonight either?” She sighed. “These people have no imagination.”