THIRST (The Elite Book 3) by Hanleigh Bradley (read the beginning after the end novel .txt) 📕

“But we quickly squash it,” I remind her.

“Hm. You don’t want Farah in Scotland.”

It’s not a question, but I still feel the need to answer her.

“No. I don’t. I want her with me. And I cannot have her in danger.”

She gives me an assessing look before nodding her head. “Very well.”

Just as I turn towards my room, she says, “I think you might consider changing her sooner rather than later. I fear no one is safe.”

I don’t say anything. I’m not ready to change Farah. But perhaps the Mother is right. If someone is attacking the reigning royals, it stands to reason that I’m most likely next. And that means Farah is in danger.

CHAPTER SIX

Farah

I’m shaking violently as I wait for Everette, cowering against his bedroom door. The house is quiet. Too quiet. I really hate this house. I hate its dark corridors. The expensive furniture and the portraits that seem to follow me.

But most of all, I hate the vampires.

I thought I disliked this house before this weekend, but I was wrong. Knowing that there are vampires downstairs, not just Everette and Jessamine, but someone else too, it puts everything into perspective.

My life is over. That’s what Everette told me. He said that my life as good as ended the moment he first saw me, first caught my scent in the rain. It’s almost funny. I’ve always loved vampire novels, but I never thought I’d end up living in one.

Before he sent me up here, demanding that I lock the door behind me, he had seemed almost scared. Everette doesn’t get scared though. He’s arrogant and regal. He’s condescending, but he’s never scared.

The Mother, that’s what he calls her, she scared him. She said something about Scotland, and it was like his face just shut down. He was definitely scared. But it’s difficult to imagine anything frightening enough to scare him.

He’s usually so determined, so uncompromising. But not today. Something is different and I don’t like it.

A heavy knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts. My heart pounds in my chest, my fingernails digging into the palm of my hands as I let out a tiny whimper. It’s easier to pretend that I’m not scared when I know that Everette believes he is in control.

I don’t know if he actually is, but it’s a nice thing to believe when he isn’t pissing me off.

“Farah, open the door.”

His voice isn’t gentle. It’s the same as it usually is. Demanding and expectant. And that fear that I was sure I heard earlier, the fear that I definitely saw in his eyes, I think it’s gone now.

I stumble to my feet and with a shaking hand, I unlock the door. He’s standing there, looking almost serene. I’ve barely stopped crying, my cheeks are practically raw, and he has the gal to stand there with that damn calm look on his face.

He moves so quickly that my eyesight blurs as he pushes past me into the room, closing the door behind him. His arms circle my waist, pulling me against him, and I feel myself crumple against him.

“It’s all okay,” he murmurs into my hair as he lifts me into the air. My legs wrap around him as I feel his arms tightening around me. It’s crazy the way I can feel so safe in his arms. Only seconds ago, I feared for my life, but now, in his arms I’m home.

I think I might have lost my marbles. There’s no other explanation for the way he makes me feel. He’s my murderer, or at least he will be, but I think I might love him. Lifting my face to meet his gaze, I search for something in his expression. I don’t know what I’m looking for. A return of my feelings, perhaps? But all I see is the same thirst that I always see.

He wants me. He always wants me.

My hand on his cheek, it’s as if time stops as I pull his mouth to mine. The fluttering feeling in my gut that always seems to accompany his kisses intensifies, and I know that if he wasn’t carrying me, I topple off my feet.

His lips are addictively sweet as they move against mine.

“Everette,” I whisper against his mouth, pulling at his clothes. I have questions. I always have questions. Questions that will result in my death. But right now, I don’t care. I want to put all that fear and pain and bloody curiosity aside, even if it’s just for a few moments.

I pull his shirt up around his torso, revealing his perfect body. His body is hard to my touch. Unyielding. We fall back onto his bed just as I get his shirt over his head.

Straddling his lap, I grin down at him. I feel in control with him between my thighs. For the first time in weeks, I feel powerful instead of the weak human girl that has just been waiting to die.

His hypnotic smirk is back in place and he leans up so he can leave a trail of kisses down the length of my neck. He makes quick work of removing my top and bra, and my nipples tighten in anticipation of his touch. His fingers are drawing pretty patterns on my skin.

It’s excruciating, making my entire body tingle and ache for more.

Everette

It’s like being awoken from the longest sleep, having her back in my arms. She lets out a throaty moan as I draw circles around her nipple. Farah grinds down against my hips and I catch the glint in her eye.

She likes this. Being on top. Having control, even if it’s just fleeting.

I’m tempted to take it from her. Flip us over and take the control back. Except,