Page 137 of Fated In Blood

They were the strongest males I’d ever known. And he tamed them with a snap of his fingers.

We were so fucked.

“Kneel,” Tyrell murmured, bored, Malachi watching with that focused intensity.

“Crawl to me.” Bile rose in my throat as these two powerful male’s knees hit the floor with crushing thuds, then they crawled toward this monster, fingers tearing holes in the rug, rigid shoulders shaking as they resisted. “Lick my shoes.”

“Stop.” I burst forward. “Stop thisright the fuck now.”

“Hold her.” Angel’s hand caught my wrist, fingers biting into my flesh, blood welling up around her sharpened nails. “You will watch, Evangeline. You will see their helplessness, because you must understand your fight is already over.”

I had to stop Tyrell from…

“Did you know they could have walked away from you that night? They could have left you here and things would have gone back to the way they have been for a hundred years.” He motioned to Collum, who drew his blade and took up position directly behind Blake.

Bosch mirrored his stance right behind Riordan.

Air began sawing in and out of my lungs.

“But since he couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt, Blake played the hero. Something to do with his bitch of a sister, I believe.”

Blake’s shoulders shook, neck stretched to the limit when Collum grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Blake’s head back, the edge of his knife gleaming in the candlelight. “No. Please,please don’t hurt him.Please.” I couldn’t see through the tears, couldn’t escape Angel holding me with such terrible strength.

This wasn’t my sister, this was Tyrell controlling her—controllingallof them.

But not you, little slayer.Somehow, Blake’s eyes found mine.Not you, Evie. Go to the?—

Whatever he planned to say was cut off when Collum dragged that knife across Blake’s throat, my scream dying when tiny beads of blood bloomed along the narrow gash.

Not a fatal cut.

Not yet.

Riordan’s eyes narrowed in determination as he fought, laboring to save his friend, but Bosch got there first, driving his sword down between Riordan’s shoulder blades, his eyes never leaving my face.

“You’re next,Slayer.”

Riordan’s raspy scream echoed off the walls, right along with mine. The sickening hiss as Bosch yanked the blade back out sent bile shooting up my throat.

“Everything ends tonight.” Tyrell’s creeping voice, so full of triumph, enraged me.

Collum watched his master raptly, spinning that knife between his fingers, waiting for Tyrell’s order to deal the death blow.

“Not quite yet. Let’s make the bastards beg, shall we?” Tyrell nodded and Collum pressed his boot into the center of Blake’s back and flattened him down beside Riordan, the back of his jacket wet with blood.

“Lick my shoes. And put some effort in.”

I was shaking with rage, shaking from helplessness as these two powerful males—who’d given up their own freedom to save me—bent their heads and licked that fucking bastard’s shoe.

I slipped my free hand beneath my skirts and slid one of the knives out of the sheath.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please stop this. You’ve proven your point.”

“Have I?” Tyrell rounded on me, Angel’s fingers digging deeper into my arm. “I don’t think I have. Do you even knowwhatthe Silverwoods are? Your bloodline was once considered sacred amongst our kind, revered for its special properties.”

“Addictiveproperties,” Malachi added, greed gleaming in his eyes. “One sip, they said, and you were hooked. Power, like nothing you’d ever experienced. Strength, the kind you’d only dreamed of. Invulnerable to any form of weapon.”

Tyrell grinned. “Feeding from your sister has made me stronger than ever. Our child will be something this world hasn’t seen in an age.That’s enough,” he snapped.

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