Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
There’s a final guard in front of these doors, he looks down at us with a frown.
“So you’re back.”
Whistler nods.
“I brought what the Boss asked for.”
The guard nods and knocks once.
After a moment, a deep voice rumbles from inside.
“Come.”
The doors swing open, as if by their own accord. Are they voice controlled? I don’t have time to ask because we’re walking through them.
The office beyond is palatial—red velvet drapes…black wood furniture gleaming like obsidian…silver trim catching the firelight from the fire that burns in a small but ornate gleaming brass fireplace in the corner. A mahogany desk dominates the room—massive, polished, and commanding.
The walls are lined with bookshelves filled with expensive looking leather-bound volumes and strange artifacts—a silver chalice, a golden dagger, and a crown of thorns under glass, just to name a few. The air smells faintly of iron and roses.
At first, I’m too busy staring around me to notice him.
Then Whistler moves aside and I see the man behind the desk.
He’s tall with broad shoulders straining his immaculate suit jacket. His face is cruelly handsome—aristocratic with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. His thick black hair is slicked back, but I can tell it would wave if he let it grow. His eyes—icy gray—catch mine and hold. For just a heartbeat, the pupils flash red.
Whistler bows.
“Well, here she is, your Fanginess. I brought her all the way from the Human Realm, just as you asked.”
The Don’s gaze sweeps me from head to toe and a scowl twists his features into something darker.
“What have you brought me, Whistler? Another stick-thin Fae maiden? I told you, they don’t sate my Thirst. Where is the one I sent you for?”
Whistler chuckles.
“Ah—didn’t I tell you my glamour could fool anyone? Even the Magistrate looked right at us and let us pass, smooth as you please!”
The Don’s scowl deepens.
“Whistler, what in the Shadow Realm are you babbling about? Where is she?”
“Why, she’s right here, my Lord!” Whistler flicks his hand and mutters a few strange words.
I feel a cool breeze blowing across my breasts. I look down and I gasp.
The glamour has fallen away and under it I’m completely naked.
12
Jules
I gasp, stumbling back, trying desperately to cover myself. My arms fold across my chest, my thighs clamped together tight, but it’s hopeless—there’s just too much of me to cover.
The man behind the desk rises and I feel my eyes go wide with shock.
Oh my God—he’s huge.
He’s taller than he looked sitting down—so much taller. He towers over me, at least six-eight, maybe seven feet if I’m being honest. His shoulders are broad enough to block out the light from the chandelier hanging from the ceiling behind him—his frame is a solid wall of muscle wrapped in a suit that probably costs more than my annual salary.
And he’s coming straight for me.
“No—no, stay back!” I stammer, but he doesn’t stop.
His hand closes around my wrists, strong and unyielding. Effortlessly, he pulls my arms away from my body. I twist and fight, but it’s like struggling against a giant oak tree. He doesn’t even break a sweat.
“Do not attempt to hide your beauty from me,” he rumbles. His voice is deep and rich—almost hypnotic. “No, no, my lovely one—you are more beautiful than I ever dreamed.”
His pale gray eyes roam over me slowly, deliberately, as though memorizing every inch of me. I can feel the heat crawling across my skin—a blush burning me from scalp to toes. This is my worst nightmare—a big, handsome man staring at me while I stand naked and helpless, unable to cover myself.
“Look, I don’t know who you are,” I babble, desperate to fill the silence. “But I’m sure you can see this is all a mistake. I mean, I can’t be the woman you wanted to bring over from the, uh, the Human Realm. You’ve got the wrong girl!”
His brows draw together in a faint frown.
“What makes you think a mistake has been made, lovely one?”
“I mean, look at me.” I nod down my body, though the motion only makes me more aware of my nakedness. “I’m definitely not the kind of girl a demon lord from another realm sends someone to fetch.”
“A demon lord?” His mouth hardens and his eyes flash briefly red. I get the feeling I’ve offended him somehow. He lets go of my wrists and straightens, his massive presence somehow even more imposing. “What has Whistler been saying about me?”
“Nothing, my Lord!” Whistler protests quickly. “Just that you sent for her and you’re the Boss around here—that’s all.”
“Well, be that as it may, I am no demon.” He spits the word like an insult.
“Well what…what are you then?” I somehow manage to get out.
He draws himself up to his full, towering height.
“I am Lucian Draxos—Don of the Crimson Syndicate and Lord of the Thirstborn.” His voice rumbles through me, vibrating my whole body.