Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
How they’d agreed to create me—purely so the other wouldn’t be slaughtered—only to willingly choose suicide when my birth wasn’t enough.
The board wanted more. They commanded them to continue forsaking the bonds of brother and sister and to procreate.
Instead, they’d abandoned me to suffer for them—
“Enough!” I snarled, my voice slicing through the quiet night.
Whisper flinched beside me, his glowing eyes searching mine with concern. My shoulders sagged as I rested my hand on his head. “I’m fine.”
He huffed as if he didn’t believe me.
But...I was telling the truth.
I might not have meant to kiss Rook. I might hate her for making me lose control and have zero intention of ever letting something like that happen again, but her closeness had done something to me.
I’d felt it that night when she’d come into my room when I’d been suffering.
I’d felt it as Whisper pushed her onto my bed and we collided, skin to skin.
I basked in it every day that her cooling, calming presence permeated the air of my home, offering me salvation just from being around her.
But I hadn’t been prepared for how kissing her would make me feel.
The agony, the pain, the never-ending torture stopped.
It just...disappeared.
Maybe that was why she terrified me more than Marcus ever could.
Because she somehow had the power to change everything.
Stalking from the coverage of the willow fronds, I kept the dagger hidden in my coat sleeve while the bent piece of wire I’d spent years tweaking rested in my pocket.
Whisper padded at my side, his paws soundless on the grass. His luminous eyes flicked to me, a question glowing with accusation. After fifteen years together, the annoying beast had become my conscience, reflecting all my fears back at me.
“I know,” I muttered, keeping my voice low as we headed toward the only weak spot in the entire wall. “This isn’t a good idea.”
He tilted his head, grunting with a flash of fang.
“The chances of succeeding are slim.” My mouth twisted in something between a snarl and a smile. “But fuck the consequences.”
Whisper’s tail lashed once.
“I don’t care what will happen if we manage to get out. That’s tomorrow’s problem.”
He snapped at a moth flitting past, then scowled in my direction.
“You’re so pessimistic. I won’t die.”
He yawned.
“Thanks for the confidence.”
Picking up my pace, I kept as much as I could to the shadows. Crossing a dead patch of grass, I glanced over my shoulder at the castle that was my prison.
It sulked in the middle of flickering flames, soaking up the numerous fires without a single light in its windows. It looked like a crypt, a tomb, and I was the dead crawling out of it.
Breaking into a jog, grateful my head remained clear and my muscles didn’t seize, I pressed against the iron gates and sucked in a shallow breath.
Whisper pressed against my thigh, his mouth parted and black gums shiny with spit. He glanced at me, shaking his head as if highly disappointed in me.
“What?” I snapped. “Do you expect me to just give up and stay in this hellhole?”
He rolled his eyes.
“I have to try. If I only manage to kill Marcus before they kill me, then fine. At least I’ve fulfilled a tiny part of my revenge.”
Looking away from the panther’s judgement, I eyed up the fortified gates. Thanks to years of trying to escape, I’d learned almost every flaw of this compound. Every crack, every faulty hinge, every unpatrolled spot. It hadn’t helped me break out because I could never fight the vitalsync core, but perhaps tonight I’d get lucky.
Moving to the triple lock that included two huge deadbolts on the other side, I ignored how pointless all of this was and pulled the twisted piece of wire from my pocket.
My pulse thundered as I bent closer, working the wire into one of the mechanisms.
My hands went slippery with sweat, my heart beating like a drum.
“Calm down.” My voice sounded too loud. “Don’t trigger another dose.”
Forcing myself to breathe through my nose, I jiggled the wire around, trying to spring the lock.
“Come on. Open.”
Whisper whined, his hackles rising as he stared into the dark behind me.
“You deal with it,” I ordered. “I’m busy.”
With a hiss, he stalked forward, tail dead straight.
The urge to look over my shoulder to see how many assassins had found me, battled with the desperation to unlock this fucking door.
Whisper snarled, low and threatening.
A nervous feminine laugh replied.
At least one would-be killer had arrived.
My temper suddenly exploded.
I flung away the useless wire, yanked the dagger from my sleeve, and inserted the tip into the lock. I hacked at it instead of teased.
I hated this.
All of it.
I was disgustingly claustrophobic.
Driven to breaking point.
Moments away from snapping and burning and slaughtering every-goddamn-thing and every-fucking-one in this motherfucking place.
I needed out.
NOW!!!!!
My heart rate soared past my control.
A hot, painful punch cut through my coat and sank into my shoulder. I cursed and spun around.