Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
If ever.
No one even knows where he is at all times. So when Grandpa asks about how his eldest grandchild is doing, I give the most generic answer because my knowledge about Eli’s state is no different from his.
So to see him here tonight is as rare as a unicorn.
I nudge Ava, but in reality, I don’t need to.
My friend is already staring in his direction—or more like glaring. I’ve known Ava since we were in nappies, and nothing is able to completely wipe her good mood like Eli’s presence.
“And what is he doing here?” she grits out.
“Showing his support to Creigh?” I try, always playing the middle ground between my otherworldly side of the family and my friends.
“Support, my arse. If he and that word met on the top of a volcano, it’d free fall to lava. He’s just here to ruin everyone’s evening.”
“Only if you let him,” Cecily touches her arm. She’s the best pacifist ever, I swear. I wish I had Ces’s way of making everything seem okay.
“Right.” Ava releases a breath. “Besides, Lan is here, too, and Glyn is fine with it.”
“I’m not scared of him.” Lie. But they don’t need to know that.
Also, I’ve come to learn the hard way that there are worse things than my brother. At least he wasn’t actively trying to destroy me.
“That’s the spirit, bitch.” Ava bumps her shoulder with mine. “Fuck the boys.”
“Very classy.” Cecily rolls her eyes. “You’re supposed to be the granddaughter of the former prime minister.”
“Don’t be a prude. And Grandpa encourages my need to express myself, thank you very much.”
“Umm.” Annika shifts from foot to foot. “We should probably go before the start of the fight.”
“What? No, we’re here for the fight and to cheer on Creigh. We can’t just leave.” Ava cups her mouth and screams, “You’ve got this, Cray Cray!”
He merely stares in our direction while Remi waves and shows off Creighton’s muscles.
Landon is focused on his phone, completely oblivious to his surroundings. Eli, who was drinking from a bottle of water, pauses and tilts his head in our direction.
Or more like in Ava’s.
No words are spoken, but it’s like they’re having a silent war. Ava and Eli always had the weirdest relationship that I can’t put a name to.
One thing’s for certain, though. It’s always been filled with some sort of tension.
She tries to maintain eye contact, but despite the fact that she’s the strongest, most outspoken person I know, she’s no match for Eli’s hurricane-like energy. She huffs, flips her hair, and switches her attention to our new friend. “As I was saying, dear Anni, we’re here to stay.”
“Jer will have my neck if he sees me here.”
“You’re a big girl,” Cecily says. “He doesn’t tell you what to do.”
“That’s right.” Ava holds her in a half-hug and they look like princesses with Ava’s lace pink dress and Annika’s purple tulle skirt. “We’ve got you, girl.”
“You…you’re right.” She digs her heels in the ground and smiles. “Jer can’t do anything to me.”
“Sure about that, Anoushka?”
Annika and I freeze for two different reasons. She, because that voice that spoke from behind us is definitely her brother’s.
The notorious Jeremy Volkov, who’s rumored to be a killer in the making.
Me?
An amber-woodsy scent takes me hostage, and I want to think it’s a play of my imagination, as was the case for the last week.
Ever since he cornered me near the library a week ago, I’ve been looking over my shoulder, checking my locks, and searching my surroundings.
He’s put me in a hyperaware mode against my own will, and I’ve tried to conquer it by painting, jogging, and letting Ava take me anywhere she wants.
None of that has worked.
And I’m starting to think it was a psychological trick. He specifically told me he’s coming back just to keep me on the edge, so even if he’s not physically tormenting me, the mental impact does the job.
Every time I’ve tried to push him out of my head, he barges into my subconscious with the persistent lethality of poison.
Which is why I hope now is one of those moments where I’m being paranoid for no reason. That I just need to take a pill and go to sleep.
But when I turn around, my eyes clash with those monstrous ones. He’s standing beside a man who’s about his height, has thick dark brows, and is wearing a closed-off expression, as if he’s offended with the world itself.
It must be Jeremy.
Despite his infamous reputation of maiming people for sport, it’s not him that I can’t stop staring at.
It’s the arsehole by his side in his black shirt and black trousers and trainers. He’s dressed so casually but still reeks of corruption, like a power-hungry politician or a bloodthirsty warlord.
He still looks tenfold worse than his charming appearance.
Or maybe it’s because, unlike all the people present, I’m well aware of what this devil is capable of.