Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Halen
I drop down into third gear and swallow the laugh that wants to spill out of my mouth. Trees zip past as the gravel beneath my tires whips up and hits the window. I knew that they’d be pissed I was coming, but at least they’re all hiding it.
Except War.
Priest’s name flashes over the LCD screen of my dash.
I tap answer. “Yes, brother?”
“How do you know these roads?”
My eyes fly up to the rearview mirror as I drop it down into fourth. “I don’t know what you’re taking about, our cold-blooded King.” I hit the red phone button before he can continue.
Priest has been void of emotions since the day he was born, walking around a mere shell of a boy. Mom thought it was some sort of personality disorder. She went through doctors, physiatrists, therapists—fucking hypnosis. Nothing came back wrong or abnormal. Priest wasn’t clinically or officially anything other than who he is. Himself. Which isn’t exactly ideal for me since he may be cold, but he’s not stupid.
I spin the wheel to the right, slamming on the brakes until the ass swings out and gravel kicks up to the boys behind me. I’m still laughing when I tap the gas, but before I can reach speed, War zips past me with a roar of his engine, and a middle finger pressed against the window.
“Fucker.”
Following War down Perdita’s main town square, I watch as the locals wander the streets. They live by a nocturnal body clock, spending their days in bed and nights on the street. We’d protect everyone here for as long as we could. That was a fact.
Lights flicker on as the sun sets over the mountains. I slow the car down and continue to follow War, until he hits his brakes outside high iron gates. The house behind it has pointed cobblestone ceilings and hundreds of windows.
War’s door opens and my hand instinctively goes to my handle. His Jordans come into view as he climbs out of the car but gets back inside and closes his door again. The brake lights disappear when his car moves forward. Gates part and I follow him through with a rumble of my engine.
The Perdita mansion is extravagant, and over the years, I can see they’ve added on extensions. It has nothing on Hayes Castle, but it’s still big. Two pointed peaks reach high up to the sky before coming down into twin pillars, fixated to the wraparound patio. The stairs leading up to the front door are marble, illustrated with gold spirals. Before you can get there, you have to pass the two Lost Boys.
Lost Boys are the pickings of boys who have seen the trauma of this world and instead of it scaring them, or hardening them, it broke them. They’re boys who were born different. A little more violent than the others, but all without self-control. They came here, where they would be trained and shaped into exactly what they are now.
Soldiers.
After swinging my car slightly in front of War’s, I turn it off but keep my focus on the Lost Boys. One stands tall and lean, his youthful skin glossy against the impending moonlight. The other is shorter, but also heavier. His hair is in a high bun, and the AKs strapped to both their chests are there for a reason. To intimidate. Make no mistake, they’ll pop anyone their master tells them to. Lost Boys are loyal and fierce by the time they come out the other end, but there’s a catch.
They have an expiration date.
I push my door open and swing my legs out, raking my hair away from my face. “Hi, boys.”
Both Lost Boys cast a lazy glance toward me, before their eyes shoot over my shoulder. I don’t have to guess to know who they’re looking at. This island may be run by a family that’s connected to Tillie, War’s mom, but they know exactly who owns it. No one wants any beef with a King, especially this generation, I’m beginning to learn.
Dad was always logical, but Priest is unhinged, War is filled with rage, and Vaden has a heart made of stone. There is no rhyme or reason as to why they do what they do or play the games that they play.
“She knows we’re here.” War slams the door closed and both Lost Boys look between each other, whispering in Latin, our native tongue.
They separate, allowing us to walk through. I follow behind War, glancing a sneaky gaze at the tall one to my right. Just as I pass him, I brush his chest with my hand. He’s cute. They all are, but especially him.
The front door opens and we’re instantly in her space. You can smell her everywhere. As soon as you walk in, you’re met with a sparse stairwell that eventually breaks into two wings.