Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
The tattoo looks like the end of a trail, connecting to the shadow of one on the side of his neck. I’m intrigued, but not enough to risk my life.
“I don’t know, Priest. How many?”
His hand disappears in the water, and I instinctively move my foot. Self-preservation. Whenever he walks into a room, if you’re smart, you’ll walk out.
“Eleven.”
“Huh,” I whisper, sinking farther down. “I was sure it would have been more than that.”
Vaden turns his body to me, widening his knees to sit forward and rest his forearms on his thighs. The top of his hair is a little longer than Priest’s, and darker. Clearly, he and Stella got their dad’s hair. I’ve never seen hair as black as theirs. “Did you go on holiday?”
I shrug, bringing my hand to my face and tracing the bubbles as they trickle down my arm. “Something like that.”
Vaden chuckles a little, but it’s the kind you know isn’t because he thinks anything is funny. “Cute.” He looks to Priest. “She’s cute. A little ballsier than she used to be, but still cute.”
His smile evaporates when his eyes swing back to me. Ocean and earth. “Do you remember the time we both fucked you?”
I still.
Vaden moves closer. Close enough to feel him breathe.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Because if I recall,” he whispers, and his cologne washes over me in a wave of maple and vanilla, but it’s the hint of moss and psychotic that reminds me of the curse.
His lips brush mine. “You looked cute then too, even if the only word you said was…stop.”
I tense, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of winning. “My vocabulary is bigger now.” Pausing, I fill the silence by studying every inch of his face. “And so is my taste in men.”
He laughs, relaxing back into his spot. “Priest, dawg. She’s all yours.”
“Vaden. Get in the bath.”
Chapter Seventeen
luna
i’ll lose myself in him one day.
Vaden doesn’t shift his focus from me when he stands, removing his shirt the same way Priest did. He kicks off his jeans and shoes, and I sink farther into the water, hiding my mouth beneath the surface while peering up at Priest.
My heart races as his eyes hold me hostage, silent promises that only I can hear.
Ones he’ll make good on. I don’t know if Vaden was implying the first night I arrived to them, but I remember he stopped. We didn’t go all the way.
Priest leans back, his designer belt unbuckled with his jeans, displaying the edge of his briefs. It’s not until the water spills over from Vaden climbing in at the other end that I finally pull my attention from him in time to catch Vaden smirking as he sinks into the water.
Even all those years ago, they were big boys. People thought Vaden was the kind King, and sure, compared to the other two, he probably was, but I’ve come to realize I was wrong. So, so wrong. Because War had what these two lacked.
Love.
Vaden loves his sister and parents, but that’s all he’s ever loved. Priest doesn’t even have that. War would kill and die for not only his family but everyone else he considers family around him.
Oh, I had it very wrong.
“What’s going on in that little head of yours, Madness…” Priest’s voice sounds far away, and I hear the distinct clinking of metal touching metal.
Saliva fills my mouth, and I quickly swallow it away, searching around the bathroom for my holster. Crap.
“You can’t reach it.” Vaden’s eyes widen on me. He smirks, running his wet hand through his hair. “Oh, so the Concord didn’t warn you about this, huh?”
I shuffle up the tub. “What makes you think I need them?” My head tilts and Vaden’s smug grin widens.
“Because, Lost One.”
“Because why?” I might be different, but I’m not what everyone thinks. Wait…did he say Concord?
My poker face doesn’t slip, even as panic sinks its claws deep into my skin when the words replay. So the Concord didn’t warn you about this, huh?
It happens too fast. Vaden’s eyes shift over my shoulder at the bitter touch of metal against my back. “Because you shouldn’t have followed the trail.”
Fingers curl around the front of my throat, but his movement is gentle when he tilts my head backward until I’m looking at him. He’s seated on a chair directly behind me, his knees wide as he places my head on the crotch of his jeans. Sugary embers of burning marijuana fill my nostrils as he lifts the joint, taking another hit.
Smoke billows between his lips in rings before he exhales the rest from his lungs. Staring at the end of the joint, he blows on the ember until it brightens. “You know what this is?”
I move from the stone expression on his face to the joint. “Weed?”
“Yes and no.”