Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Tristan just laughed.
“Ugh, then what’s the point of you?” Crossing to the fireplace, I collapsed in the armchair. Charlotte, and the cold determination in her eyes as she said she’d never be mine, flashed through my mind.
“If I serve no purpose, why are you still here?” Tristan flung the dart at my crotch with the strength of his hostility.
I snatched the fool off the carpet and caught the dart in his shoulder blade.
“Ahhh!”
I tossed him back. “I’m here because you’re the closest to mortal as it gets down here. No doubt why she latched on to you at first sight even though you look hideous and smell even worse. You understand her,” I announced. “Explain her to me.”
Tristan paused mid-throw. “What? Are you serious?”
I ground my teeth. Oh, how I wished I wasn’t serious. Me? Asking a worthless mutt like No-Name for insight was embarrassing enough, but being forced to visit his hovel to do it.
All around us, an army of werewolf servants cleaned the place spotless.
Ditching the dart, Tristan came over and dropped in the seat before me. One of the wolves immediately rushed over and handed him a mug of beer.
“What the fuck does this look like to you?” Tristan growled, tossing the mug back at him. “Half empty! Fill it the fuck up, you idiot!”
“Yes, Alpha Sigma.” He scurried off out the door.
“See?” I asked, flapping a hand at the servant’s back. “Why do you inspire such obedience and deference when you’re nothing,” I plainly stated, “but I’ve given Charlotte everything she’s asked for. I’ve given her and her sister the protection and power of House Belphe, and if she asked, I’d give her the wealth and position of it too. She even has free use of my body whereas her demon counterparts are spending years on the waiting list.
“She has all she could want or need, so why doesn’t she do it for me? Why has she gifted you that expression, but not me?”
“What expression?”
“You know the one.” My reply was marked with impatience. “Her lips part and she laughs—but not a sarcastic or mocking laugh.”
“You mean a smile?”
“I know what a fucking smile is,” I gritted. “But hers is different. It’s new. It’s not the smile you have after a good torture session or an adequate fuck. She gets this look on her face even when she isn’t making someone suffer or making them come.”
The irritation melted off his face. “Wait, yeah, yeah, I know the one you’re talking about,” he said, leaning over in his seat. “And then her eyes crinkle— Did you know eyes could crinkle?”
“No,” I cried, leaning in too. “Not until her.”
“Yeah, and then they do this impossible thing,” Tristan breathed. “They like— They glow? Is that the word— No. That’s what those fucking leech eyes do, but not Charlie’s. Her eyes they... they...” He snapped his fingers. “They sparkle.”
“Sparkle! Yes, that’s it exactly! And then she tilts her head to the side,” I said, the words tumbling out of me faster than I could stop. “And this weird little dent appears in her cheek and her eyes do this strange movement like they’re dancing, and you don’t know whether to kiss her eyes, the dent, or her lips, but you can’t do either because then she might stop—and there’s nothing worse in this afterlife than when her eyes stop dancing and the dent goes away.”
Tristan, and all of his obedient mutts, stopped what they were doing and stared at me.
Clearing my throat, I straightened—leaning back in the chair. “Or so I’ve heard... from someone else... he was going on about dents and head tilts, and I— I had to rip out his throat to get him to shut— What the fuck are you looking at, you hairy fuck!” I barked at Tristan and his knowing look. I now keenly understood what a punchable face is. “You going to tell me what that expression is called, or not!”
Tristan chuckled. “You know, I think I would tell you, if I knew, but I don’t,” he confessed. “But I can tell you one thing. That expression on Charlie’s face—all shining and beautiful and immense like I dream the moon is—it’s one that will never”—Tristan’s face changed—“be directed at you.”
I went rigid, lips peeling back from my teeth. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me. You think you’ve won her because you’ve given her clothes, power, status, and your name on her arm?” His laugh further deepened my enraged confusion. “You’re going about this thing all wrong, man. And you’re so blinded by your own legend, you can’t even see it.”
“What are you—?”
“Uh-uh,” he said, rising up. “I’m going to let this lesson come at you the hard way... from Charlie.”
Kissing my teeth, I snapped out of the room—leaving the king of the cursed mortals to his petty power plays—and dismissed every word he said the second after I heard it.