Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
She releases a soft laugh as she steps from my arms.
“You are, too, you know. Amazing, that is.” She wipes at her tears, her face swollen from crying.
“Thanks, babe.” As I walk out the door, I look back one last time, and I find her staring at the sink. “I’m coming back later with dinner,” I call out, catching her attention.
“Sounds good,” she replies, her gaze still locked on the sink in front of her. I shut the door behind me and walk out to the road to wait for Matty to come pick me up.
“You had to tell her, didn’t you?” An angry voice comes from somewhere on my right. I turn in that direction to find Rylas sitting on the curb. He glares up at me. “You’ll pay for that,” he says and stands, and as he does, I see a knife in his hand. He steps up to me, backing me up to the brick wall with the knife pointed at my throat; my heart rate picks up, and I try my best not to start shaking. He gets so close that the knife touches my skin and breaks it just a little. I’m frightened, but if he hurts me or worse, at least I’m going down fighting and defending Delaney.
“You cheated and got caught, yet here you are, placing blame on someone else,” I scoff and shove him with all of my might, and he stumbles back slightly, but it’s enough to remove his blade from my neck. “That head of yours must really be fucked up,” I say to him.
Matty pulls up a moment later, and I sigh in relief. Rylas takes a few steps back and slips the knife back into his pocket. Matty immediately gets out of the car and opens my door. His gaze flicks to Rylas, who is still staring at me, and I shake my head as I get in the car.
Some men are just fucking dumb.
THIRTY-SIX
ARLO
I sent her flowers, chocolates, fuck! I even sent her sex toys as an apology.
She has me blocked, so I can’t call or message her either. And the thought of never seeing her again is making me… agitated.
Time. That’s what I should be giving her. The logical part of my brain knows this, but the rest of me won’t get on board with it.
I want her.
The need I have for her…
It’s so fucking strong right now.
“Your mind is preoccupied,” Soren comments as we watch the remaining members take off. Tonight is a hunt, and while we mostly prefer to hunt alone, some nights we hunt together. I grip the gun in my hand as I stare into the woods. It’s quiet tonight, aside from the sudden screams of “help” from the man chosen as tonight’s prey.
“Who are we hunting tonight?” I ask, changing the subject, my mask slightly muffling the words. Soren’s mask still dangles from one hand.
Sometimes, Soren hunts with weapons, but most of the time, he prefers to use his bare hands. His hands are lethal, strong enough to quickly snap a neck in the blink of an eye.
“Boston found him,” he says.
Boston finds some of our prey, and Soren, of course, approves or rejects them.
We hunt twice a year, never in the winter. We tried that once, but it didn’t work out well. And it’s almost that time, so this will be the last hunt of the year, and only one of us can be crowned the winner. Reon has probably won the most hunts, but Soren and I aren’t far behind him. While I usually look forward to these nights, right now, I’m preoccupied with thoughts of Cora.
Which is funny because the Forsaken has been such a large part of my life. I finally found somewhere I thought I fit in, where my darker side was accepted. Though as Soren tells me about all the crimes our chosen prey has committed, it goes over my head because all I can think about is a woman with honey-blonde hair and striking eyes, wondering when, or if, she’ll talk to me again.
“Your gun,” Soren says, and I turn to him.
“What?” I ask, just as a car pulls up behind us. We watch as Reon gets out, his axe in one hand and his mask in the other. Stopping beside Soren, he slides the mask onto his face. After a moment, he gestures to the woods and takes off. The Forsaken owns the land we hunt on. It’s twenty acres of private, fenced-in woods, and no trespassing is allowed.
“Go and fucking kill something, Arlo,” Soren says, shaking his head and taking off after Reon.
The fallen leaves crunch under my boots as I make my way into the trees. My mask hides my face, and my black clothing will hide any blood, and with me using a gun as my weapon of choice, the mess should be minimal. While I’m not opposed to blood, I prefer the feel of the gun going off in my hands.