Page 38 of Their Blood Rite

I don’t know how long I lie there like this, clinging to the bucket, wailing and retching. Long enough for my belly to empty entirely and the bath to be filled.

‘She good?’ Dorian asks.

‘Yeah. I think she’s done,' Shaw replies.

The bucket is removed, and they all ease me up. My head lolls, and I can’t keep myself upright. Every time they start to ease their grip, I fall.

‘Come on, Pixie,’ Shaw sighs, scooping me up. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up before we finish off what’s left of you.’

‘Get your fucking hands off me,’ I warn, my words coming out a garbled mess.

‘You would rather we leave you covered in filth? Smothered in blood and with puke in your hair?’

‘I’d rather you drop dead.’

‘Already done that, I’m afraid. Can I help with any other requests?’

I look up at him as he stops by the edge of the bath. His dark gaze bores into me, and his brows raise a little as he waits.

‘What are you going to do to me?’

‘I’m going to bathe you because the smell of your blood makes us hungry. We will tend to your wounds so you don’t bleed to death or die of an infection. That’s what we’re going to do.’

‘And then what?’

‘Then you are going to sleep. You are going to recover.’

He lowers me into the water. The warmth soothes my injuries, and the scent calms my nerves. He kneels beside me and makes sure I don’t slip beneath the surface and drown. Gently, he starts to wash me.

‘Don’t worry, Pixie. Cole and your coven won’t get to you. Not now we have you.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’ he asks, his hand stopping as he looks at me curiously.

‘Why did you save me?’ I ask.

‘Oh, Pixie,’ he sighs, continuing his tender cleaning. ‘We didn’t save you. We caught you.’

He holds out his hand and gently blows. The softest of black dust emerges from his empty palm and drifts towards me, going up my nose and in my mouth. It tastes sweet and smells like fresh lavender. A wave of ease settles through me. A complete calmness and peace. My eyes grow unbearably heavy as he lowers his hand.

‘Now close your eyes and sleep.’

Chapter 7

My back is pressed against a tree. The bark scratches my skin, and I wince at the discomfort between my legs. Cole kisses me. He’s a good kisser, but his fingers are uncoordinated and clumsy as they dig around in my underwear like he’s trying to find some lost treasure before someone else. His heavy breaths land in my mouth as he moans, relishing as I stroke him back and forth in my hand. I try to set the pace. To show him what I like.

He doesn’t give a fuck.

His fingers slow. They always do when he’s close to finishing. He’s incapable of focusing on more than one thing at a time.

He’ll cum and slump against me, leaving me not only unsatisfied but probably with a burning sensation when I pee.

But Cole doesn’t cum. Instead, he grabs my wrists and pins them behind me, wrapping them around the trunk.

‘Got her?’ he asks.

‘I do indeed,’ my father replies. He grips my wrists tightly, pulling and pulling until there’s a stomach-turning pop.

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