Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
I lift her chin so she’s forced to look into my eyes, I show her my storm, I show her the flames as they lick toward the sky.
Her eyes glaze over.
“Your homework,” I press. “Is it done yet?”
“I had to sleep,” she whispers in a low voice that probably would have sent shivers down my spine had I not been frozen. The fact that I’m even aware of that makes me pause.
I get up and turn away, staring at the cave wall. “You have five days before the festival, where I’ll show you why you have to die. I need you to prepare yourself, and I need you to finish this. We’re running out of time, which is another story entirely. Finish your duty, get your name in the book.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that, writing my own obituary.”
I smile. “Yes. You do that.”
“Have you always been a monster?” She hugs herself, her breasts pressing tightly against her flimsy white T-shirt.
I may have lost my ability to love, but I most definitely have not lost my ability to seduce, which, I realize, is exactly what I need to do in order to prepare her for what’s to come.
My dick hardens at a rapid pace just staring at her.
Everyone knows I’ve never slept with a human.
I’ve never created that way. And I’ve never been curious enough to try.
It’s only ever been from the earth and sun, but it’s tempting with this one. It would feel so good to sink into her, to bite down her soft neck and hold her across that mattress, driving into her with a burning need.
I shake myself out of it and answer. “Monster? I’m the savior of the world.”
And of myself.
She laughs and walks in a small circle in the dirt. “Wow, really? This is how heroes work? Trapping girls in a tiny cave, making them write their own death sentences? Disney totally has it wrong, then!”
“They always do,” I say softly. At her annoyed expression, I yell, “Sacrifices always have to be made for the greater good!” I slam my hand against the cave wall. Bits of rocks fall to the ground. I glare, conscious that my eyes blaze bright white.
She stumbles back.
“You want to set the world free, allow people to live? This is what must happen!”
“Then why me!” Her fists clench.
“Don’t for one second”—I flick a bit of rock from my shirt and try to stay calm— “think it’s because you’re special, Cleo.”
Her lower lip trembles. “I hate you.”
“Hate is useful, more than love.” I nod toward the book. “Do your homework, princess. Oh, and if you start writing I’ll bring you more things to work on as a precious intern, since technically that’s your job. You just switched…offices.”
Tears stream down her cheeks. “Is this your kink? Kidnapping people?”
“You came willingly.” I grin. “They all have to.”
She freezes. “H-how many people?”
“Since when?” I ask. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“How many people have been in this cave?”
I don’t answer her, just walk toward the back of the cave and pull the black curtain. Both walls are littered with names.
Sasha was here.
Ryan was here.
Deb was here.
Axel was here.
On and on it goes.
“Miles,” I say plainly. “This part of the cave will go down for miles. Some have tried to get lost, but the cave will always bring you back to this room until your mission is complete.”
She gasps, covering her face with her hands. “That’s thousands and thousands of people.”
I want to laugh, but I suppress the urge. “Thousands? No, you have to think bigger.”
I grab one of the torches and toss it down the hallway of the cave, it goes up at least seventy feet, and again continues on for three miles. The cave is covered with names, some are scratched with their fingertips, others with blood, some with the pen, dying with dignity but wanting to be remembered.
“It’s a grave,” she says.
“We honor them yearly and you will be the last. Their sacrifice gives the world life. Don’t you want to add your name now?”
More tears come, flowing down her face.
“Get to work.”
I start to walk away when she grabs my shirt. Nobody dares to grab me, touch me, or even talk with me as much as this one.
I’m again thankful for Kratos and what he did.
My heart is ice.
She’s too warm.
I jerk away.
“How many interns has the museum had?” she asks. “In the last… say, century?”
“New interns?” I shrug. “The last century?” My smile is hollow. “Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine…I’m old.”
She gasps. “Why?”
“See?” I turn and point at the names. “You’re not special. Congratulations, you wrote an excellent resume, but the common denominator here is that you’re all the same. Fascinated by something you have no understanding of. Play with fire, you will get burned.” I lean into her and press my mouth against hers blowing ice against her lips. “Look into the fire, and you’ll be lost.”