Page 448 of Rage

I exit her private suite, inhaling her dark violet and juniper scent.

I shove the bloody shirt into the bag I left in the hall, knowing that this obsession with her wasn’t going to end any time soon.

Chapter Five

Maeve

Present day

On the eve of a clan member’s twenty-first birthday, they’re given a decree.

I was given my decree at thirteen.

Now, I stand in my room, staring at the white wedding dress hanging in my closet, fear and rage holding on with an icy claw into my chest.

I’m to be married on my twenty-first birthday.Tomorrow.

I don’t bother to plead to my father to change his mind. He and I have very little in common but our stubbornness is the same. He won’t bend and he won’t yield. But neither will I.

So, I’ll show him the daughter he created. The monster I became to survive the hell he put me in.

Dressed in a short red leather skirt, I tug the black corset top into place. My full lips are painted a deep burgundy, and my dark locks are curled down my back.

I even stole a pair of Sloane’s designer red heels, the arches so sharp I have to pray to whatever God will listen not to let me fall on my ass.

Ferguson might have sold me to Michael, but I’m not going without a fight.

This is my life, my clan, my power.

Slipping a knife into my thigh holster, I put another between my breasts. A gun would attract attention, but a knife I can hide.

There’s a brief moment of pause. Doing this, going through with this, would be close to clan suicide. I would put a target on my back, risk the wrath of my father in exchange for my freedom.

I’ll gladly risk it.

Exiting my bedroom, I turn to the grand staircase. My sisters each have a wing on the second floor, whereas I have one on the third. Even now, I realize my father has been separating me from the family, so as not to allow me the opportunity to lead. My sisters were allowed to be children, allowed to experience love whereas I was stuck in serving his second. My only existence was to populate the next generation of the clan because of when I was born.

I’m not going to be that person. That is not my future.

What I don't expect to find is Killian.

He takes in my appearance, all the way down to the sharp heels, and dark rage contorts his handsome face. His sharp features are twisted, the blacks of his eyes so dark, not one flicker of light enters them. He looks possessed.

This is the face of the infamous killer. This is the man everyone is afraid of.

“Where are you going, Princess?” He rakes his eyes over me again. It feels like a physical touch, making my nipples pebble, my nerves stand on end.

The entire house is empty, save for me, Michael, and now the reaper. I didn’t expect him home, not after traveling so many days this month.

The air crackles with tension. It’s also been there between us. This need pulsates and throbs whenever we’re alone. It simmers just under the surface, begging to be released.

Shifting, I move to the hallway. “Somewhere.”

Killian is on my heels. “Anyone I know?” There’s an edge to his words. I ignore it. If I think too hard, I’ll lose my focus.

I can only focus on my plan. My revenge. My freedom.

“Not now, Killian.” I stop at the hallway, facing where Michael’s room lies. “Feel free to go. I forgot something.”

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