Braving the Beasts

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Braving the Beasts Page 8

by Aleera Anaya Ceres


  I couldn't help but gape at them.

  Lex had been right. The Ruined City fashion was...intense. It was the only word I could find adequate enough to describe it. I'd barely gotten a good look at their style when we'd been hiding through alleys and when I'd seen the officials, they'd been uniformed.

  A woman walked through first. Her hair was strange. It was long, dreadlocked and dyed purple. She wore a type of leather collar around her neck and a flimsy lace black bra, matching lace underwear and thigh high boots with ridiculously high heels. She sauntered into the room and sat on the floor beside the throne leisurely.

  Following her were men with the sides of their heads shaved while the tops pointed high up in colorful Mohawks. They wore collars as well and leather pants and fishnet shirts. They were pierced nearly everywhere; eyebrows, nipples, lips, noses. It was disconcerting.

  And then he walked in.

  I knew who he was immediately and my heart dropped to my feet.

  I knew who he was because he was different from the rest. In dress, in his kingly manner and because somehow, my soul recognized him.

  The man was massively tall-nearly as tall as Kael-and he wore jeans that were snug against his muscled thighs and ass. He wore a leather jacket that was unzipped and open to reveal a chest rippling in muscles. Tattoos snaked up his pectorals, more of the detailed design hiding behind the jacket he wore.

  His bearded face wasn't entirely attractive. He wasn't beautiful like Kael. He wasn't boyish like Lex. He wasn't comfortingly handsome like River.

  This man was dangerous.

  And that's what made him sexy.

  A scar ran down his right eyebrow and I briefly wondered what had caused it before he took a seat on his throne, and leaned back to stare at me.

  Like he was the king of the castle.

  And he might as well have been.

  Because sitting before me was Akir Murtaugh.

  My fiancée.

  He smiled cruelly at me. "Hello, lass."

  *The End*

  Turn the page to get an exclusive first look at book 2!!!

  The room was entirely too ominous. Darkness pressed around corners, chased away by the harsh glow of the fluorescent light that illuminated the figure sitting before me on his high backed black throne. Spikes hammered into the chair jutted out from all around him, framing the back of his head like a vicious crown.

  He may as well have been wearing one.

  The prince of the Ruined City.

  Akir Murtaugh.

  My fiancée.

  "Hello, lass." His smile was a cruel thing on his face. He was surprisingly more handsome than I thought he'd be. Dangerously attractive. His gaze boring into mine filled me with both hatred and lust.

  I pushed those feelings aside to glare at him.

  "I confess, I never imagined our first meeting quite like this." His voice was dark, gruff and accented. His hair was so light a brown it was nearly blonde, his eyes a piercing blue. He stroked long fingers against his beard in thought as he looked me over. "You look different in person."

  I sneered at him. At the scar down his eyebrow. At the kingly manner about him. Arrogance and danger was what he breathed, what he projected like waves of heat.

  I knew I couldn't show weakness to him. I tilted my chin up defiantly. "Perhaps it's because I'm tied up? But don't worry yourself over giving me a warm welcome. I expected nothing less from Ruined City filth." I jerked at the bindings at my wrists.

  Akir rumbled out a laugh and leaned back in his chair. The leather jacket he wore opened at the lapels, revealing the hard panes of his chest. Muscles covered in spiraling ink of tattoos. He spread his knees wide, the jeans tightening against his thighs. My mouth suddenly went dry.

  "Is that any way to speak to your future husband, lass?"

  Behind me, Lex made a surprised choking sound.

  A malicious grin spread over his face. "Besides," he continued as if Lex and the other men weren't there at all. "What type of welcome did you expect when you killed ten of my men?"

  I pulled at the knots of the ropes. The scars that ran from my shoulder blade to my hip pulsed in discomfort with the action. The gunshot wound at my upper arm burned and blood trickled down in a warm line. His eyes followed the trail briefly but he said nothing, assessing me instead. His gaze was entirely too challenging.

  "Release me, prince." I demanded. "And maybe I'll let you live."

  His entourage laughed. Akir didn't. He looked at me thoughtfully, intensely. I glared at his group. At the snarky woman with purple dreadlocks and the men with colorful Mohawks. I took them in, every detail. They were but a few feet away from me. The men were armed, guns holstered at their hips.

  I moved before they could blink.

  I let the bonds I'd patiently undone fall from me and then I jumped up. I made it to the Mohawk guy. He reached for me but was too slow. I sent my fist flying to his face. His nose crushed beneath my knuckles. He fell back at the same time I reached for the gun at his waist and turned to point it at Akir's forehead. I cocked the weapon and smiled at him. But there was no joy in the gesture. Only rage.

  Behind me, Lex chuckled.

  That satisfaction lasted only momentarily. The guards behind us cocked their guns. I felt the heat of them aimed at my backside. I didn't even flinch.

  But neither did Akir.

  His lip curled into a vicious smile that chilled the length of my spine. He leaned forward on his throne, causing the gun to dig into his skin. I almost faltered at the movement. I didn't. Even if my throbbing wounds begged me to.

  "Brava, lass." His hands came together, forming a slow clap. He was mocking me. The bastard. "I was told you were capable of incredible things."

  "You thought your little ropes could hold me?" I pressed it harder against him.

  He didn't even blink.

  "I figured they wouldn't hold you."

  "So why tie me up in the first place?" I asked.

  His smile widened. "I wanted to see if all the rumors regarding the Ferguson Princess were real."

  Rumors? I wondered with a little bewilderment. The Ruined City hadrumors about me? As if I needed just another reason to hate this place.

  "So you know I won't hesitate to kill you, then."

  He chuckled. Up close, I noticed how much fuller his bottom lip was than the top one. I tried not to stare at them. Too late. He noticed where my gaze lingered and his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip in an all too suggestive gesture.

  "I would really like to see you try, lass." He challenged.

  At this, I faltered. At the look in his eyes. He wasn't afraid to die. He wasn't afraid that I might be willing to pull that trigger.

  But he knew I wouldn't.

  Not if I wanted to get my mother back safely.

  "Do it." He whispered, tantalizingly.

  My finger itched against the trigger of the gun. We may not have had many of them back home but I was well read enough to recognize a revolver when it was placed in my palm.

  I put the slightest bit of pressure on the trigger.

  His guards tried storming forward.

  He glared at them with a blazing fury that had them standing down instantaneously before his gaze went back to me. "When you really want something, lass, you take it. Damn the consequences. I wonder, what doyou want?"

  His bright blue eyes looked like they could strip my soul raw and bare me naked to them all in this room. It made me nervous. It made me angry. It made me lust.

  "I want my mother," I confessed breathlessly.

  "Then kill me." He commanded. I blinked at that. Even his entourage appeared uncertain. He noticed my hesitation. "Kill me and you will get your mother back. All you have to do is pull the trigger."

  "How do I know this isn't some trick?" I asked uncertainly. "What's to stop your men from killing me and my friends once
I kill you?"

  Akir smirked. "Jay," he called out. One of the guards stepped into the line of my peripheral vision. "Are my people obedient?"

  "They are, sir."

  "If I commanded one of you to pick up a gun and shoot yourself with it, would you?"

  "I would, sir." There was no hesitation. There was nothing but pure certainty that had me believing every word.

  "And if I tell you that, should Princess Keanna kill me now, you are not to harm her or her friends afterwards, will you comply?"

  The guard paused. My eyes flickered over to him a moment to study his posture, his expression and the truth in his next words. "I would."

  Akir grinned from ear to ear. "See, lass? No one will harm you. Now," he spread his hands wide. "Kill me if you ever want to see your mother again."

  His words were so simple. One little act and I'd have my mother back. We could walk out of this place and never have to look back. All I had to do was pull the trigger. But could I? Could I kill Akir? I'd killed wild animals before on hunts. But never a person.

  I sucked in a breath. Akir smiled. I forced myself to look him in the eyes as I squeezed the trigger.

  About the author

  Aleera Anaya Ceres is a half Irish-Latina romance enthusiast who loves reading, drawing, mermaids, movies and heavy fangirling. A proud Slytherin from Kansas, she currently lives in Mexico with her husband and son. Author of the Blood Novels, you can find her on her facebook page: Facebook.com/AleeraAnayaCeres or on twitter: Twitter.com/Aleera_Ceres

 

 

 


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