Wrathful Souls (Sons of Templar MC – New Mexico #3) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC - New Mexico Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
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He let that sink in while my heart thundered, struggling to wrench myself out of that terrible memory.

“I feel like I am gone,” I admitted without planning to.

He nodded curtly. Not with sympathy. With understanding. “A part of you is. And you’re gonna have to decide whether you’re gonna go lookin’ for who you were before or turn into someone else. There’s no right way or wrong choice. You’ve got people whatever path you choose. It’s likely you’ll either forget or resent that for a while, but you got people. And you got me. When you feel those demons scratching at your door and you’ve got no way out, you call me.” He motioned to the phone on my bedside table. “Numbers already in there.”

I bit my lip until I tasted blood so I wouldn’t let the tears fall. Crying would’ve felt like a failure in front of someone like Hades.

Because I couldn’t speak, I just nodded rapidly.

He didn’t say anything else, just got up from the chair and walked from the room.

Hades and Colby met at the door. They did the weird man chin lift thing before Hades left.

Apparently, I wouldn’t get a reprieve.

Colby’s eyes slid over me, assessing. Concerned.

“What was he doing here?” Colby asked, holding two coffees and a paper bag with grease at the bottom.

“Telling me his beauty routine,” I replied, gratefully taking the coffee. “He has flawless skin.”

“Sariah,” he warned.

I rolled my eyes. “I am not required to tell you about every conversation I have with someone.”

“My brother was talking to my woman, and you’ve got tears in your eyes. I need to know something.”

The need I had to escape was overwhelming. I wanted to run.

“Can you stop with the ‘you’re mine’ bullshit?” I groaned. I wanted to yell, scream, but my body wasn’t strong enough. “We are not fated. There is no other worldly connection here.” I waved my hands between us, gasping at the agony that came from the simple gesture. “You were interested in me at first because of my tits, ass and face.”

“Not in that order,” Colby smirked. Or at least he was trying to. His smile looked nothing like it had before. It tore up my insides.

“You were interested in me because of my physical attributes,” I scowled. “There was attraction. If we’d given in to that, if I was easy, had let you fuck me the first day you met me, then all of your interest would’ve been gone. But I didn’t. I said no to you, and that made me infinitely more interesting. You only decided I was ‘yours’ because I wouldn’t give myself to you. So please, let’s stop pretending it’s anything more than that.”

Colby was no longer smirking. The lines bracketing his mouth were hard, eyes filled with fury.

“You were mine the second you strutted into my club wearing head to toe pink and an expression like you were ready to fight me or fuck me,” he growled. “You were mine when you showed how you were willing to drop everything for your friend. You were mine when you didn’t even blink when my brother pulled a gun. When you fought for women who most people dismiss.”

“I’m not yours,” I ground out.

“Jesus Christ, Sariah.” Colby angrily ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t know how to make it clearer to you. Livin’ this kind of life takes a particular kind of man. And that man needs a particular kind of women. Sure, it’s nice if she’s got a fuckin’ gorgeous face, amazin’ tits and an ass that gets you hard just by looking at it.”

Though he was really mad, and I hadn’t thought I was awake … down there, I felt a flutter below my waistline.

But Colby wasn’t done.

“Sure, you have all those things, babe,” he continued. “But that’s not what makes you mine. It’s because you’re not afraid to throw attitude, because you’re loyal to those you love, to a fucking fault. Because you can handle anything this life throws at you. It’s not just that you’re the perfect Old Lady, which you fucking are. It’s that you’re perfect for me.”

The speech was good.

Like, take your breath away type good.

Like put it in Gray’s Anatomy or any romantic movie type good.

It almost got me.

Almost.

But then he had to use the ‘P’ word.

Colby was breathing heavily, staring at me, invitation in his eyes. He looked ready to cross the distance between us and claim me. Properly.

And fuck, did a large part of me want that.

But even that part of me was tarnished, battered, ruined.

“I’m not perfect for you, Colby,” I whispered. “I’m not perfect for anyone.”

He opened his mouth to argue, and for once, destiny decided to cut me a break. The doctor came in with news of my discharge and a lot of aftercare instructions, prescriptions and information to quell any conversations about our relationship or lack thereof.


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