Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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While the last kiss was soft and gentle, this one was of another nature. There was a shadow of desperation and sorrow in it, but most of it felt the same way on my lips as his hands felt on my body. Rough. Possessive. Fingers biting into the nape of my neck, the other hand roaming and digging into my ass and squeezing. He pressed his hard-muscled body into mine, bending me backward as if he wished he could sink into my body completely. Mark it in ownership. It was in the way he stared at me as he kissed me, dark eyes blazing with a single word that sent electrifying pulses through my entire body, shaking every part of me awake.
Mine, he was claiming.
He nipped. Teeth scraped and tugged my soft inner lip. I moaned and he growled. The vibration danced across my tongue and speared straight to my aching core. He pulled away, both of us breathing hard. He ran a big hand through his hair and stared intensely at my mouth as if he were reluctant to give me a moment to catch my breath before he claimed my lips again.
I swayed on my feet, blinking lust-dazed with a kiss-drunk smile tugging one side of my mouth up. I darted the tip of my tongue along my swollen lips stinging a little with his aggression, still tasting of him. "I liked that one a lot."
A sudden noise came from the bedroom, the squeak of a door opening and then a thump as it shut. Light hurried footsteps. I pushed away, creating distance between us just as Valarie Crowther appeared. Her wide eyes met mine. "I can't believe you did that," she gasped. "Are you t-truly alright? You d-didn't g-get hurt?" She pressed a hand to her heart as she approached us both. She was pale and shaking. "You saved my life." She glanced to Mr. Whiskers, her delicate features pinched with anger. "Laurena c-can't get away w-with this."
Laurena was a Wychthorn Princess. It was something with which I'd already reconciled myself—she would get away with it. "Laurena's from Great House. She's untouchable. I'm just a servant," I said, heaving a weary sigh.
I knew what the outcome would be. Even though Laurena had gone after Valarie, it was me she had accidentally stabbed—not that she knew what she'd done. Hopefully, I'd successfully made her doubt that it had happened. I'd grabbed hold of the scissors as they pushed their way inside my body, spinning around with the momentum. Everything had happened too fast to know for sure. Either way, Laurena wouldn't be apprehended for it.
"She thought I w-was the one who had c-cut her hair off. She hates me, hates us. She was f-furious when Byron defended me and told her the truth, that he did it." Valarie shook her head, her anger melting to astonishment, and her ash-coated black hair swayed. Her bright eyes sliced to Mr. Whiskers as she threw up a hand. "Byron cut his s-sister's hair off. Madness."
"Who'd have guessed that Byron was such a cold motherfucker," Mr. Whiskers said to Valarie, grinning, a flash of white teeth. "I like him."
I squinted, my mind slowly catching on to what was happening before me. A cold, unsettling feeling drifted like snowflakes to the pit of my stomach.
