Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
He has juice and balls. Maybe I underestimated him.
Ky climbs out of the spa next. “I’m all for threesomes, but this is one I’m not touching.”
Once he’s out of earshot, I whisper out playfully. “What’d I do?”
She doesn’t answer, only rests her head against the spa, her eyes up at the sky. “You think you’ve done something wrong when a girl doesn’t bat her lashes at you.”
“Quit the fucking games, Sass. I couldn’t care less about that. I don’t care if I’m not your type—though you’d be fucking wrong—but I do want to know why you hate me.”
She chuckles, her head tilting until she’s glaring right at me. “Mascara” by Niykee Heaton starts playing in the background. “It doesn’t matter.”
Fuck it. I push off the edge and walk closer to her, moving my arms through the water. The red neon lights beneath us generate shadows against her sharp features.
She freezes. “What are you doing?”
I bring my fingers to her chin and tilt her face up to mine. Only I didn’t consider how she would look gazing up at me all helpless-like. Her eyes are fucking hypnotic, and fuck me, I don’t even think my mind tricks could help anyone who comes toe-to-toe with this woman.
“What’d I do?” I repeat, pressing my thumb against her bottom lip.
She pulls away from my grasp as if I’ve stung her. “Leave it alone, Killian.” The way my name sounds leaving her lips, makes me want to do the fucking opposite.
Damn. What the fuck?
She pushes herself out of the water. “Leave it alone.”
The Collection
When I was eight years old, my mother died.
When I was eight years old, my father was murdered.
I don’t know why or how this pattern came about. I don’t know why unlike most children my age who had a loving and caring family, I didn’t. Most people don’t know much about Kiznitch, and the old tales that come with this sacred land. Most humans walk this earth thinking that what you see, is what you get. That’s not the case if you have Kiznitch blood. Sometimes I wish I died with Papa that day. I wish that the same man who emptied that cartridge into Papa also emptied one into me.
I wasn’t so lucky.
“Saski?” my godmother, Hope, called out from down the hall. Hope took me in once everything went down. The first day I met her was when I was eight years old and the circumstances around that day are still a little hazy,
Our life was going fine, until it wasn’t. Until today. But I was somewhat prepared. I knew. Kiznitch was powerful. I learned that at a young age. Eight, to be exact.
“Coming!” I called out, tightening the belt around my waist. I had been attending Florida State University and driving home whenever needed since I graduated Siesta High. But recently, I’ve been coming home less often, especially since Hope has found a husband.
I enter through to the sitting room, tucking my hair behind my ear with a smile on my face, when I freeze. There’s a woman and another man sitting in the lounge, and I don’t need them to address me to know who they are. People from Kiznitch have a way of commanding the room without speaking a single word.
“Hello, Saskia, I’m Delila Patrova…”
My eyes flew around the room, falling to the other man who is with her. “Yes?”
“Do you know who I am?” she asked, tilting her head. Her razor sharp hair skimmed her slim shoulder when she tilted it.
“No,” I lied. “I don’t know who you are.”
She paused, her focus flicking up to the man who was with her before coming back to me. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I need you to come with me. Did your father tell you much about Kiznitch?”
Instantly, I looked to Hope. She nodded at me, her eyes falling somber. We knew this day would come. I only wished that I had finished college before it happened. I look back to Delila. “Yes. He did.”
She smiled. “Good, I don’t have to kidnap you.” She wasn’t kidding. “Pack a bag, only your essentials, and be ready in one hour.”
My heart sank, though I should have been better prepared. I guessed over the years I had become somewhat numb to the fact that they would be here, ready to collect me.
Ready for me to take on what my parents had failed.
“Okay.” I simply spun around and made my way back to my bedroom, pulling out a small suitcase and dumping it on my bed. As I was pulling down clothes from my closet, Hope walked into my room, taking a seat on my bed. “You can still run, Sass.”
My hand froze briefly before I unhooked some jeans off the hanger. “No.” I shook my head, sucking in a deep breath. “I won’t run like Papa did. I don’t mind paying their dues.”