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Glint (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 2)

Page 31

by Raven Kennedy


  The blacks of his irises that seem to have swallowed the power are the only indication of the foul magic lurking within.

  That voice. Deeper, crueler than usual, but with a timbre of familiarity. I should’ve known. I should have damn well figured it out.

  He takes one more step, and then he’s so close that I can feel the fiery temperature of his blackened soul, taste the press of spiced air as it passes from his lips.

  He’s Rip and he’s Rot. He’s the fae and the king.

  I swear, I feel a knife to my back all over again. But this time, it’s from a different betrayal, from a different man.

  And I do feel betrayed. He tricked me. Confused me with a kiss and lied about who he really is. Maybe that’s unfair, considering I’ve lied too, but I can’t help feeling like he played me.

  “You’re King Ravinger,” I breathe in hurt accusation, because it’s the only thought clanging through my bones and shrieking in my skull.

  Rip’s mouth slowly pulls into a grin, and he speaks with the dark, sensual stroke of a villainous purr that matches the glint in his eye. “Yes, Goldfinch, I am. But you can call me Slade.”

  End of Book Two

  Golden Gold Vine

  PART TWO

  This miser did prize her,

  this golden gold vine.

  His smile would gleam

  at all of her shine.

  He gave her his all,

  so she’d answer his call.

  Rejoiced every inch

  that her length grew up tall.

  But soon she outgrew

  his garden, until,

  she then made her way

  into his house on the hill.

  She twisted and curled

  in every inch.

  No room to move,

  he was prodded and pinched.

  He shoved out his furniture

  to be left in the rain,

  abandoned front door,

  knocked out window panes.

  Every offering he made,

  she grew larger still.

  Her metallic glint covered

  each floorboard and sill.

  This miser hoarded

  every petal and thorn.

  Skin marred with scratches

  where sharp barbs had torn.

  When his hair was all gone,

  but he still wanted more,

  he gave up his nails,

  taking them, peel from core.

  He presented them all,

  onto stems he did pour.

  Not once did he ask,

  what’s it all for?

  Her flowers, so pretty,

  grew heavy with gold.

  Though his fingers too sore

  to take them to hold.

  So he split them away

  by the work of his teeth.

  Bit them from vine

  and hid them in sheaths.

  All gathered, so heavy,

  hundreds of blooms.

  All golden, these flowers,

  but he ran out of room.

  The old miser didn’t dare

  ever take some to town.

  If they knew of his treasure,

  they’d surely come ‘round.

  So spend them he never,

  and stayed home forever.

  Loved ones he severed,

  (he thought himself clever.)

  He murmured and pet,

  each golden rosette.

  Her vine he let twine,

  all while whispering, “mine.”

  But without reparation,

  she’d quickly go dim,

  so frantic, he’d cut,

  blade into limb.

  When his nails were all gone,

  from ten fingers and toes,

  he had to give up

  his ears and his nose.

  The blood that he spilt,

  he staunched with petals of guilt.

  But the drips of his red

  made the vine rightly fed.

  This miser bled freely

  so his wealth may yet grow.

  He let veins collapse,

  let his heartbeat go slow.

  Her vine slurped his life

  like nectar to birds,

  and he lay in the room,

  his body submerged.

  While she grew out of the house

  and over the hill,

  a contagion that caught

  every space up to fill.

  But he wanted still,

  he had to have more,

  so out plucked his eyes,

  sockets empty and sore.

  He had no room to sleep,

  and no eyes to weep,

  but from this golden gold vine,

  ever more would he seek.

  To be continued...

  Acknowledgements

  This is my dream job. After two years, I still can’t believe I get to do this and that people actually read my books. But even dreams can become heavy, and I absolutely would not be able to continue doing this if it weren’t for the people who help me carry the load.

  So, to my family, thank you forever. Your love and support is the core of my drive, and I’m grateful to you all. You’re also just the best people on the planet, and I’m blessed to have you in my life. Whether we’re squished together on the couch or states apart, just know that I love you.

  To my book family, this can be such a lonely business sometimes, and I’m lucky to have found my squad. I’m forever indebted to your help and I’m damn thankful that I know such funny, kind, and gracious people. Ivy Asher, Ann Denton, S.A. Parker, C.R. Jane, Helayna Trask, and my favorite sister, thank you for helping me with this book and for all your insight. You make me better.

  To the readers, my heart is so full. This series means a lot to me and it’s probably my favorite thing I’ve ever written to date. So the fact that you’ve taken a chance on it means a lot to me. And, as an indie author without the support of a publishing house, all of my success comes down to you. Every time you write a review, recommend me, post about my books, every damn page you read of mine…it matters. Thank you so much.

  —RK

  Also By Raven Kennedy

  Shifter Romance:

  Addie: Pack of Misfits Book 1

  Reese: Pack of Misfits Book 2

  Jetta: Pack of Misfits Book 3

  Paranormal Reverse Harem:

  Grave Mistakes: Hellgate Guardians Book 1

  Grave Consequences: Hellgate Guardians Book 2

  Grave Decisions: Hellgate Guardians Book 3

  Grave Signs: Hellgate Guardians Book 4

  Void

  Wicked Webs

  Fantasy Reverse Harem Romcom:

  Signs of Cupidity: Book 1

  Bonds of Cupidity: Book 2

  Crimes of Cupidity: Book 3

  For the Love of Cupidity: Book 4

  Cupidity Box Set

  Romantic Comedy Stand-Alones:

  Can’t Fix Cupid

  April’s Fools

  Conveniently Convicted

  Dark Romance:

  The Girl Who Cries Colors

  Cruel: Savannah Heirs Book 1

  Tame: Savannah Heirs Book 2

  Wild: Savannah Heirs Book 3

  About the Author

  Raven Kennedy is a tea and dark chocolate kind of girl, and can often be found binge-watching The Office or The Great British Baking Show. She enjoys writing all kinds of books, because each one brings a different experience. Whatever the genre, she hopes she creates characters you can root for.

  When she’s not reading or writing, she’s with her family, probably messing up a recipe or going on a hike that she thinks she can do, but in reality is way too hard because she remembers that all she does is sit at a computer all day and write her heart out.

  You can find Raven at any of the social medi
a sites below:

 

 

 


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