Page 70 of Their Blood Rite

‘We might. Do we have a deal?’ Shaw holds out his hand. When I go to shake it, he pulls it just a little out of reach. ‘And we get to make you orgasm when we bite you if we want.’

‘What? Why?’

‘You taste incredible, and it makes your blood more potent.’ He reoffers his hand. ‘Deal?’

‘I’m not returning the favour. You want to make me orgasm, have at it,’ I reply, reaching out and taking his hand.

‘Agreed.’

We shake.

And with a satisfied little smirk, he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes.

I curl up and follow him into sleep.

An odd sort of excitement filling me from head to toe.

Chapter 11

Ijolt awake, the top of my head slamming into the bottom of the bed and making me swear loudly.

‘Gods damn it,’ I groan, rubbing my forehead.

Like I haven’t been concussed enough.

The pillows remain on the floor beside me with the guys’ head dips left behind, and when I’ve blinked the sleep and bang to my head clear, I spot a note left on Shaw’s pillow. I reach over and take it.

Come downstairs when you’re awake.

After a quick peek, I know the room is empty. I slide out and head to the bathroom.

There are no mirrors in sight and a very obvious pale patch on the wall above the basin where one was. I run my fingers over it, glad of its absence. When I see the mess on my left arm, I feel sick.

‘Fuck me…’ I whisper, inspecting myself. There are dark markings from my wrist all the way up to my elbow. They’re in the deepest reds and look like lightning mixed with strange swirls.

It’s actually quite pretty.

Considering they’re blood magic kindred markings.

It’s a complicated piece of information to take in and accept. Not only am I a blood witch, but a powerful one. And apparently, I have been one since I was a baby.

I see the Kindred markings from last night. Deep red again, and looking like the various stages of the moon cycle, along with what I think is a tree of shadows with roots spreading across the back of my hand.

I swallow and grip the hem of the shirt one of the guys put me in.

Before I can change my mind, I pull it off. It’s a good while before I get the courage to look.

I let out a shaky breath as I see the scars on my stomach. Considering there were none there yesterday, it’s one hell of a shock. I remember the one on my left. Father struck me, and I fell onto a vase. A shard of it stuck into me.

Unable to see my back, I reach behind me and let my fingers glide over my skin. It’s no longer a smooth, soft surface but rough and raised. It makes sense. My father has beaten me with his cane, his belt, books, fire pokers and even a riding crop. I was foolish for thinking his many lashings wouldn’t leave a mark. He would say that he never struck me as hard as I cried, or there would be marks left behind.

Now I know. I had the marks. They were just hidden from view.

I hold my arms before me. Two Kindreds. I mean… that’s pretty impressive. That’s powerful, by any standards. And as a blood witch, that makes me a real force to be fucked with.

It's a shame that my magic will drive me mad with power and turn my soul as dark as the Goddess Hel herself.

I return my mother’s bracelet to my wrist. In an instant, the scars and marks disappear. My skin is once more smooth and pristine.

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