Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Wait.
Was I going to follow him in hopes of seeing Knight? But wouldn’t following his brother, because I’m convinced Creed is his brother, have been more effective? Why am I following the silver-haired stranger?
I spin on my heels to make my way back inside, gasping when I come face-to-face with the silver-haired hottie.
Fuck me is he hot. If Mr. Freeze and Elsa, a grown-up version, had a baby, this guy would be it. His hair is almost polished silver, his eyes almost the same shade, and now on mine.
“Hi.” My cheeks heat.
Okay. I really, truly do need to get laid. I’ve never blushed so much in my life. In fact, I don’t fucking blush. I get what I want, and I leave. Sex is a transaction for me. It’s enjoying those minutes—or hours—where all of their attention is on you. Just you. Probably my daddy issues talking, but if you ask me, sex is the closest feeling you’ll get to magic. Real magic. Not this cooked up, drug-induced version of it.
“Hi.” He smirks, taking a tentative step around my body. In this moment, I’m painfully aware of how similar it feels to being the prey. “Your name is London.” He backs up slightly.
“It is.” My feet decide to follow, as if he’s placed a collar around my neck and is leading me with a leash. “And you are?”
Without looking, he maneuvers through the crowd that pays us no mind, and I walk the same path, stopping before a sphere of burning flames heats my cheek as it passes us. That’s some seriously good CGI shit. It’s even projecting heat.
Movement beyond it catches my attention, and my eyes lock with yet another shade of blue.
The buff, teddy bear of a guy smirks, cocking his head at me, but then the other answers my question.
“My name is Silver.”
My gaze snaps back with my head. “Wait, seriously? Your name is Silver? What kind of Harry Potter shit is that?”
A low chuckle from behind the fire sounds, and I briefly meet those blue eyes again, but quickly pull them back to Silver.
Silver smiles, and it’s a nice smile, flirty and smoothe. “If Harry Potter had a ten-inch cock.”
I don’t bother to hide my grin. “It was Draco for me.”
“Fan of the twisted then?”
“What can I say?” My head tilts as I allow myself to take in what he’s wearing. Casual jeans, Jordans, and a clean white tee. “The dark is where I hide.”
Those lips stretch higher, and I reach up to tuck my hair behind my ears to keep myself from reaching out and touching him like I did Creed.
Jesus, I’m a needy bitch tonight.
Silver’s eyes zero in on the bandage around my palm and he frowns. “What’s this?”
I shrug, waving it in front of him. “Ah, that would be what happens when I get distracted. Couple small cuts from a rock yesterday. No biggie.”
Suddenly, he flashes forward, taking my wrist, and I wince at the heat that shoots through my palm when his flattens against it.
I yank from his grasp and he lifts his hands into the air in surrender.
“What the hell?” I glare. “I said I was cut.”
“Nah, I don’t think you are.”
My head tugs back. “Excuse me?”
Silver fights a grin, and I have no fucking clue why he and blue eyes share a laugh.
“I’m sorry, do you know me? Follow me around and watch my every move? Can you see through cloth and sports tape?” I snap. “I’m pretty fucking sure I’m cut.”
“Nah,” he says again, almost as if in challenge.
Growling, I shake my head and tear at my shitty bandage job. Poor Ben did his best with what we had at home, but his hands are big and mine small, so it’s a mess. “I don’t know why I’m entertaining you, but it must be because you’re stupid hot and that Fae shit I took—”
“What did you say?” He’s in my face again, eyes flicking between mine.
“You’re hot?”
He shakes his head.
“…that I drank some Fae shit?” I frown. “I mean, I can pay for it if it’s an issue. I don’t expect to ride for free, but it was sitting there so I figured it was fair game.” I already feel lighter on my feet, so I think it’s setting in. I’m not exactly sure what it’s supposed to do, but my skin feels warm and those beer goggles are coming out, not that I need them. Every person I’ve laid eyes on so far tonight is a rare kind of fine.
“Sitting where?” he whispers, his silver gaze gauging my every move.
“On the counter with the rest of the foreign bottles of alcohol. I thought it was a prop, you know, to go with the Freaky Friday theme going on.”
Silver’s brows snap together, his lips tightening, and I use this moment to lift my now exposed hand, wiggling my fingers in his face.