Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Dancing under the moon?” I scoffed. “Not unless you’re sharing whatever you’re on.”
She huffed a laugh, still not looking at me, obsessed with my tattoos. “It’s called nature.”
Without wavering, I baited, “Are you a witch?” I tried to see if she’d give me a straight answer.
“Why?” She smiled, her gaze now reading the font on my chest piece. “Are you scared?”
“Of fairy tales?” I taunted.
My words snapped her gaze to connect with mine. Taking one deliberate step toward me, she sassed, “Little do you know…” She took another step in my direction. “You burned me at the stake in 1692.” She got right in my space, moving my crossbow out of the way before getting on the tips of her toes, closing the distance between us.
My six-foot-two frame towered above her. She couldn’t have been taller than five-four.
With determination, she looked up at me. “And I cursed you to find me in every lifetime.”
Unable to resist the temptation, breaking one of my oaths, I conceded, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Belladonna, Hennessy.”
The wall she built came crumbling down, anxiously waiting for what I’d confess next. I had her right where I wanted her. Witnessing the uncertainty crash through her confidence made my dick hard.
When I didn’t share more, she insisted, “Keep going.”
“Tell me, Hennessy…” I threw her a bone, gathering information I could use for later. “How much do you actually know about your family’s history?”
She stepped back. “You mean my father’s?”
“I mean your bloodline.”
She shook her head, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Good.” I nodded. “The less you know, the better.”
“Better for who? Your family? The Graves Academy? My uncle? What?” She was exasperated. “Or better yet, what do you know about my family? How about we start there?”
Using this to my advantage, I bargained, “What do I get out of it?”
She flinched. “You think this is a negotiation?”
“Everything in life is.”
“Huh,” she hummed. “Is that what your prestigious Graves Academy is teaching you? It’s called extortion. It also comes with a prison sentence.”
I argued, “Only if you get caught, and even then, just throw some money at the problem.”
“So silence is bought?”
“Yes. Especially if you’re dead.”
Her eyes widened. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”
“I’m not the one who’s interrogating you, now, am I?”
She huffed out a deep breath. “The only thing you haven’t done is strip-search me.”
I held back a laugh. “Then bend over and cough for me, Hennessy.”
“You know…” Mischievously, she smiled. “Two can play this game.”
“Careful,” I warned with a slow grin that time. “You don’t know all the rules yet.”
In one breath, she asserted, “I know that I don’t like you.”
I chuckled, eyeing her up and down for a moment. “That’s your pride talking.” I leaned forward, getting close to her face. “Now let’s see if it’s louder than your curiosity since you lack basic common sense.”
“My turn,” she snapped, amusing me far more than anyone else had in a very long time.
Her stare traveled from my eyes to the tattooed sleeve covering my right arm before reaching for it.
Her fingers barely grazed the ink as she gave me her best shot. “Poseidon,” she commented.
I didn’t answer.
“Greeks believe he ruled the ocean, Devereaux.”
Hearing her say my last name with such disdain made my cock twitch, taking my entertainment wherever I could.
“Every ship that dared to cross his sea would answer to him.” Her fingers slid to the trident Poseidon was stabbing through Odysseus. “Most people think that Poseidon was the bad guy. He was a villain, but Odysseus earned his hatred in my opinion.” She traced the waves between them. “You’re not the hero, Onyx. You’re the god making sure everyone pays their consequences.”
I remained silent.
“Now this”—she pointed between the two—“isn’t a battle scene. It’s judgment. Every story needs a villain, and if history has proven anything, it’s that it depends on who is telling the story. Their story isn’t about revenge. It’s about a debt being collected.” She pointed at the back of my lower arm. “You have Medusa in the form of a serpent. You’re honoring her because, like you, she had the power to turn men into stone.”
I swallowed hard, fighting with my restraint to stop her.
Following through, she gestured to the tattoo above Medusa. “The state of Florida, that tattoo means you have someone you actually care for who lives there, or maybe it’s just the fond memories you hold on to, which is why you have a scuba diver right here.” Her fingers lightly traced the lining of my inner forearm. “Is this you or someone else? Either way, the ocean is most important to you.”
I swallowed hard again, hanging on by a thread.
Reaching for my left arm, she pointed at the shipwreck on my shoulder, from the octopus below it, to the killer shark, to the jellyfish and the hammerheads, and then Ariel. “All of these are parts of you, from the pirate that is your lineage, right? Devereaux…” She rolled it off her tongue. “Sounds awfully buccaneer to me. It also explains why there’s a serpent crest at the top of your estate.”