Hello, my children!
I'm back, and this time it hasn't been, like, three months! Because it's SUMMERTIME BITCHES! I have no classes (just work lol), so I actually have time to write! YAY!
Anyways, to reward y'all for being so patient with me, this chapter is a longer one. Grab a snack and get cozy! ;)
Love you all! I can't thank you enough for your continued support and patience. I really don't deserve you <3
Enjoy,
E<3
~
The wind whipped through my hair as I gunned the engine down the highway, smacking me in the face. Unlike full-blooded humans, I hardly needed a helmet; if I crashed, I could sustain damage, but my reflexes were far superior to that of humans. Still, normally I had time to tie my hair up so it wouldn't do this crud.
My hands gripped my bike in a death grip, my hands shaking with the effort of steering in the opposite direction of the stranger. My mind was crowing a victory, but my very soul rebelled against me.
The last time I had felt this way was the first time my father had ordered me to kill someone.
But this was different. This didn't hurt anyone.
I never want to hurt a soul again.
If only. But that was a pipe dream. A fantasy. The world revolved around hurting one another. There was no space for kindness or weakness. I'd have to kill again. And again, and again, and again-
I shook my head, desperately fighting back tears. I was stronger than this. I had learned to shut off the part of my heart prone to such weakness, I just had to do it again. But it was difficult now. My run-in with the stranger, however brief it had been, left me feeling raw and vulnerable and...weak.
No. That was my father's word.
Did that make it untrue?
Suddenly, a man appeared in front of the bike, and I shrieked, braking abruptly and feeling my precious bike shuddering under the strain. My whole body jerked forward, and I grit my teeth with the effort to stay astride, my knuckles and fingertips going white at the pressure I exerted. Once I finally regained my equilibrium, I raised my head to see an imposing male standing about five feet in front of my front wheel, arms crossed and looking entirely unconcerned for someone who almost got a new tire tattoo, looney toons style.
He was at least six-foot four, with broad shoulders and a musculature to match. His longish, inky black hair fell around his shoulders in well-groomed waves, glowing like the rest of his golden complexion. But those eyes of his stopped my heart in its tracks.
I had eyes like those. His were a little lighter, differently shaped...but those were unmistakable.
"What are you?" I meant it to come out as a demand, but it felt more like a whimper.
YOU ARE READING
Marcus' Prey
על-טבעי*Book two in the Hell's Company series* He was a disgrace, fallen from a once lofty peak to the depths of the pit. She was something pure, surrounded and corrupted by sin and misery. He killed to stave off the darkness, she killed to become it. Forg...
