Page 124 of Shadowblood Souls
And with the adrenaline blaring through my system, for the first time it really sinks in that Andreas might be right.
The woman fleeing from us right now might be that exact same girl.
And I have let out all my hatred and frustration on her instead of the people who really deserve it. Starting with myself.
I grit my teeth and throw myself forward faster, just as the roar of an approaching train reaches my ears.
The lights blink into view through the trees up ahead… and Riva swerves toward the tracks. Like she’s running to meet it.
Like she welcomes the collision.
Horror blots out every other thought in my head. That’s my Riva,ourRiva, and I’m the one who’s flung her toward disaster.
I’m too far away. I don’t know how to stop her. But the words careen up my throat with all the force I can put into my voice.
“Wildcat,no!”
* * *
I hope you enjoyed this bonus scene fromShattered Vow! To find out what’s next for Riva and her monstrous men, pick up Monstrous Power, the second book in the Shadowblood Souls series.
Monstrous Power
One
Riva
The room smells like death.
That’s probably because of the copious number of dead bodies sprawled all across it.
It’s like a house party of corpses, three dozen or so limp forms gathered around the kitchen and open concept living and dining room of Ursula Engel’s expansive but homey cottage in the woods. Some slump on the floorboards and tiles, others loll across leather and hardwood furniture.
Most of them died because of me.
It’s pretty easy to tell which ones I took out—at least, the ones I killed with the shrieking power that’s now settled down inside me rather than with my claws. Those corpses are definitely not enjoying this undead party.
While the unearthly scream tore out of me, I saw right inside our enemies. I knew exactly where to twist and what to snap to wring every drop of pain out of them before their bodies shut down completely.
Limbs lie askew at impossible angles. Faces have locked in contortions of anguish.
The meaty, metallic tang of blood laces the air, but also the nauseating odors of urine and shit. A lot of my victims lost control over their bladders and bowels in the grips of my brutal talent.
I close my eyes for a second, but removing the gristly view doesn’t stop my stomach from churning. Partly because it’s not just the scene that’s making me queasy, but also the stares of the four other figures who are still standing with me.
My guys. My fellow shadowbloods, who have the same dark smoke winding through their veins that I do that gives them their own unnerving talents.
The four gorgeous, tormented, vicious men who spent most of the past two weeks punishing me for a betrayal I didn’t even commit.
They believed I was a monster. I wasn’t back then, back when we were separated four years ago.
But looking at the carnage around us with my shriek still ringing in our ears, it must be difficult for them to see me as anything else right now.
I swallow thickly, willing down my nausea and the protests that want to bubble out.
I didn’twantto do this. It was the only way to save us.
But those claims aren’t totally true. Some part of medidwant to wreak all this havoc, to savage and maim with wild abandon.
