Page 3 of The Sweetest Lies
Oh.
Um.
Huh.
“Fuck,” Roman hisses through his teeth as he thrusts his hand over his face and then down the back of his head.
Oh my Goddess. He likes me.
Roman fucking does care if someone likes him. And he cares if I’m that someone.
Except my vagina used both of their cocks like a fantastic artisan pussy sandwich, and now neither of them knows what we are.
Fuck. What are we?
“Um.” I barely get that one word out
It’s such an unstable response that I wish I could take it back before it’s even out. Because that’s all I’m able to give them before the door swings open with a bang.
Zilo storms in on stomping hurried steps that reflect the urgency in his big green eyes. “The Night Witch—the queen. She’s gone mad again. And this time... it’s worse.”
It’s worse.
Everything is worse now.
And it won’t be getting better.
Two
A Mother’s Daughter
I thoughtZilo would lead us back to the dining hall. I wish he would have.
Instead, we stand bathing beneath the light of the full moon. And that’s what makes tonight so frightening. My Goddess Moon blesses supernaturals. The fae, the shifters, even the once great and mighty dragons feel the moon’s gifts. We’re strongest during the full moon. I think that’s what makes Creatchin so terrifying in this moment.
She, too, is a worshipper of the moon in this moment.
Her head is tilted back so far, I can see lines creasing the thin column of her neck. Those big eyes of hers are like black holes staring up at my goddess. Whispers scurry from her lips like snakes sliding through grass.
“Who is it?” she asks on a harsh dry breath. “Tell me who? I’ll find them. I know I can. It is my duty to you. I’ll use them as we need...” It’s a rattling string of questions and vows spoken over and over again. They slither over the fine hairs on the back of my neck until a shiver runs through every part of me. “Telllll me.”
“Mother,” a slender woman whispers gently.
Mother?
The woman’s horns are dark as night just like all the other hell fae but her dress hangs loosely around the finest glittering black wings. Not all of the fae have them. Some have hooves. Some horns. And some wings. But none of them are as alluring as her wings. Moonlight beams over the silver-pressed edges of the delicate arching tips, and they just seem to make the beautiful woman more deadly looking. “M—m—Creatchin,” she says louder, more brutally.
The queen’s spine stiffens, and she looks back at the few of us who are keeping our space. We’re closer to the black bricks of the castle walls than we are to our righteous ruler.
Her gaze looks from the girl who called her mother very briefly before passing to gaze hesitantly at the others. It’s a scared but determined look. A look that won’t admit any wrongdoing or... mental instability, I suppose.
She avoids the questioning gazes and instead swings her attention to where we stand. And she focuses solely on one of us.
“Zilo.” Her chin lifts higher as if the crown on her head should be greatly noticed. “Zilo, please escort me to our chambers. We have much business to discuss for our queendom.”
Queendom.Goddess, do I hate how she emphasizes that at all times.
I hate how she barks Zilo around even more though.
