Page 169 of Their Blood Rite

‘Usually, but not this time.’

‘Let him go, Poppet,’ Dorian warns, his low voice a deep rumble. My mark burns.

I growl like a raging animal, left with no choice but to relinquish my grip.

Shaw doesn’t stagger back but instead closes the gap between us. His angry breath lands on my skin as I simply smile.

‘Happy?’ I ask. ‘Your lover is back just as you wanted. My mother, who slit my throat as a baby and buried me alive. Go find her. The love you long for. The one for which I was such a poor replacement.’ I let out a sharp breath as the pain of those words cut deep. ‘You know you are destined.’ I spit the words he said to her. But he doesn’t flinch.

‘I was trying to save your life. I would have said anything.’

‘You are so at home in your lies, you even believe the ones you tell yourself.’ I spit in his face. ‘That’s all you will ever get from me. Move aside before I-’

His hand wraps around my throat, and his lips curl as he wipes his face. His fingers slide into his mouth, and he slowly sucks them clean.

‘My dark little plaything. You’re not going anywhere.’

As his grip tightens, flashbacks of the rope around my neck strike me hard. Hanging for hours. Swaying. Choking. Dying in agony.

All I am becomes panic.

He sees and lets me go, moving his hand to my cheek instead.

‘We were going to kill Neve and her sisters as soon as the curse was lifted. I was not expecting the Unseelie to come. And I was not going to kill you when she told me how to end the curse.’

‘You thought about it.’

‘No,’ he grinds back, his teeth clenched. ‘I did not. But if you carry on being a fucking brat, I may reconsider.’

His eyes travel down to my mouth. His thumb moves to my lip, revealing the fangs beyond.

‘Beautiful,’ he whispers.

He presses the pad of his thumb into one, puncturing his skin. The warmth of his blood drips onto my tongue and hits me like a bolt of lightning.

The taste. The power. It courses through me and hits my core, slamming into me and fuelling a desperate need that suddenly throbs between my legs.

‘Very fucking beautiful,’ he breathes, watching my reaction. Sensing it.

I slam my hand into his chest, and he flies backwards through the air before skidding in the dirt. Shaw quickly rights himself, returning to his feet with grace and skill. And a dark smile that promises trouble.

I realise very quickly that they have surrounded me. Dorian, Archie back in his male form, and Shaw. They’re poised for a fight. Tense and ready.

But so am I. But before I can use my magic, orange smoke forms before me.

The banshee sneers as her hand clamps down on my shoulder.

‘For the blood queen.’

A hot, tearing sensation rips through my body. With a laugh, she twists the sword she’s driven through me.

Hands grip her head, and there’s a snap. She falls, her head facing completely the wrong way, and explodes into orange smoke.

‘Stay still,’ Shaw orders, pulling the sword free and tossing it aside.

His hand lands on my stomach as blood pours through his fingers. He pulls me in, guiding my face to his neck.

‘Drink,’ he orders.

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