Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
I got to my feet, ready to sprint out the back door and keep on running. I could return for my car keys, purse, and other essentials later.
Before I could make it two steps, King appeared in the kitchen, still wearing that sleek black suit. Draco froze and stared like he was seeing a ghost. Maybe because he actually was, which was why I froze, too.
This was the king of Minoa? The one I read about when I was twelve and who sparked my love of ancient Greek culture? His presence filled the room with an energy that made the air buzz and crackle, and he carried himself like a king—a man you should obey, bow down to, and fear like your life depended on it.
I watched the two men, who had the same frames and heights, stare each other down. I expected them to go at it, but they didn’t.
What were they doing?
My mind flooded with a sick, primal fascination. I hadn’t realized it before, probably because I’d been terrified when I met King, but he and Draco could be brothers. Nearly identical. They both had that thick dark hair, icy pale eyes, and faces that triggered something deep inside with their too-perfect features. Not like a model or gorgeous actor. Nothing like that. If I had to put my finger on it, I’d say they were not of this modern world. Men from a different time, a different place. Different species from us humans.
History was filled with tales of gods, beasts, and mythical creatures, especially when it came to the Greeks. Perhaps not all legends were fiction.
“Father.” Draco flexed his fist. “You come to ensure I die like your other children? How kind.”
What children? How did they die?
King’s eyes flickered bitterly. “The violence of my past spawned your very life. This, of course, is the reason I am here. My existence was unholy, which means yours is, too. You are a cancer that needs to die.”
I didn’t feel any sort of affinity for Draco—a dark fascination, yes—but it was brutally cold to tell your child they’re a cancer.
My eyes whipped to Draco, wondering two things: (A) how would he react? (B) why the hell hadn’t I left yet?
“Wrong.” Draco stepped forward, going toe-to-toe with King. “For thousands of years, you’ve demonstrated there is no limit to the depraved things you’ll do to get what you want, including creating Ten Club and enslaving Seers to do your bidding. You are the one who’s cursed.” Draco pressed a finger to his chest. “My future is mine alone, and I’ll decide how my life plays out. It has nothing to do with you or the circumstances of my birth.”
“When you have lived as long as I, you come to understand that you decide nothing. Fate has her own plans.”
Draco’s eyes flickered. “Well, if our destinies are fixed, then there is no harm in telling you to fuck off. Let me live my life in peace. If fate comes for me, it does.”
King lowered his gaze to the floor. “I am sorry, Draco, but I cannot do that. Ending my own flesh and blood is the only way to set things right.”
Draco chuckled. “Only one problem with that, Dad. You cannot kill me. You’re not powerful enough.” Draco leapt for King, knocking him to the ground.
Oh shit.
Draco wrapped his hands around King’s neck, and I watched as colors exploded all around them. Greens, reds, and blues. King tried to hit back, but his arms fell limp to the ground.
Draco tightened his grip around King’s throat, a feral look in his eyes.
“Draco, no.” I went over and squeezed his shoulder. “Stop!” I yelled, not even sure why I was getting involved. If two evil gods wanted to fight to the death, I wouldn’t be able to stop them.
Draco turned his head to look at me, as if snapping out of a violent daze. In that moment, King launched Draco into the air. He flew past me, slamming into the refrigerator. Draco slid to the floor, moaning in pain.
King got to his feet and jumped on top, strangling Draco. He was trying to crush his neck.
I gasped in horror, covering my mouth. “Stop. Please stop.”
King was just like Draco, completely unaware of me, lost in a feral deathmatch.
In that moment, I realized that I had to choose. I could help Draco, or I could stand here and let King kill the son he believed would end us all.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Are you okay?” I looked at Draco in the seat next to me. He hadn’t spoken much since we left for the airport, and when we got here, he only said enough to instruct me to keep my mouth shut and follow his lead. Then he’d simply walked up to the ticket counter and told the man to book us on the next flight to St. Thomas. First class. The agent entered our names into his computer, produced two boarding passes, and wished us a nice flight. At the security checkpoint, Draco told the woman to ignore us, and she waved us right through.