Page 95 of Their Blood Rite

‘Ask away.’

‘What happened at the village today?’ This is my first question. ‘What did Dorian mean about“We may be mated to the bitches, but I don’t have to be a slave to primal needs placed on me by fate”?’ Is my second.

That one gets Dorian an angry stare from Shaw before he refocuses on me.

‘Third question?’

‘Who was the attractive male that saved me in the forest?’ I ask

‘Attractive male?’ Shaw repeats.

‘My three questions.’

Shaw collects his discarded coat from the bottom of the bed and puts it on me, guiding my arms through the sleeves and smoothing my hair from beneath the collar.

‘The village is rebuilding itself after the attack,’ he says. My heart races as he answers, and I find myself desperate for information. ‘They were extremely cagey about our appearance. They were prepared to fight us with hidden weapons. No doubt they thought we were there because word got out about you. They put on a good show for our benefit, making it look like nothing was wrong. That the Rite went off without a hitch. The last thing they will want is us poking around, so they were very polite and helpful.’ He fiddles with my collar. ‘Cole is still alive, Pixie,’ he adds. My insides boil with hate. Shaw’s hands run down my shoulders. ‘He’s been made Coven Leader to replace his father, just as expected. He told some bullshit story of a sickness that wiped out some of their numbers. His father included.’

My teeth grind so hard I think they’ll break.

I boiled his blood. He should be fucking dead. I wish he were dead. Worse. I wish he were rolling around in agony for all eternity.

‘Do they know I’m alive?’

‘Dorian asked where the little mud witch from the pub was,’ Shaw replies, briefly glancing in Dorian’s direction. ‘Cole replied that you were unwell and recovering from the same sickness. We reminded him of the laws.’ Shaw takes my hand and looks at the scar from the mysterious Rite. He’s removed my bracelet. ‘That females are not to be conditioned and given a trigger.’

‘Didn’t that make him suspicious? Why would you suddenly ask or care about that?’ I reply.

‘He was suspicious.’ He laughs. ‘And when I told him I thoroughly enjoyed the sound you make when I sink my teeth into you, how you purr when I tasted what’s between your legs, his head looked ready to explode.’

Archie laughs.

‘You… you told him I was alive? You told him I was here?’ I stammer, the world spinning around me. ‘I have to sit.’

‘You are sitting.’

‘Why would you tell him that?’

‘I’m not scared of some little mud witches,’ he dismisses. ‘And Cole’s misery brings me endless joy. Little prick. He’s at home right now thinking of all the things I’m putting you through, knowing there’s nothing he can do to stop me. It will be driving him mad.’

‘You told him I’m alive and that I’m here… to piss him off?’

‘You took his Grimoire for the same reasons. Besides. He deserves to be afraid. To know you still live and that we have you. He didn’t know if he should beg for mercy or run for the hills.’ He can’t stop laughing.

‘Are you stupid?’ His eye twitches at my insult, but my rage is too powerful. ‘He doesn’t care that you have me. He only cares that I’m still alive. That I have his fucking Grimoire. He’ll come for us both. The whole coven will come for us!’

‘They wouldn’t dare.’

‘They already did dare, you fucking idiot!’

His eyes narrow, and I know I’ve over stepped. But I can’t believe he would go out of his way to put me in danger like this, and for what reason? Some petty grievance he has with Cole? I could die for that pathetic reason?

‘Tone, Pixie.’

‘They may have been looking for the wolf, but they dared come here to look for it. They dared to attack. They’ll come back for me. I never should have taken the Grimoire.’ My throat feels like it’s closing. ‘Do you have any idea what they do to witches who refuse the Rite? What they do to runaways? To blood witches?’ I clutch my chest as the room spins. His hand rests on my shoulder, but I shrug it off. ‘They cut us until we bleed out, Shaw. Over and over. Slice after slice. Then, when we’re on the brink of death, they put us in the coven’s fire, and we burn. We burn forever, the fire consuming our magic, body and soul as fuel for magic. Magic they syphon for themselves. It’s a death that lasts for decades. Agony beyond measure.’ I shove him away and gasp in panic, my chest unbearably tight. ‘They thought me dead. Why didn’t you let them carry on thinking I was dead?’

‘You were the one who asked to stand at my side when he gets sworn in,’ Shaw reminds me. ‘You wanted to show him how amazing you were doing and-’

‘That was when I thought he was dead!’ I panic. ‘I didn’t actually mean it!’

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