Blood Rite (Witch's Reign Book 1) by Sarah Black

Author:Sarah Black [Black, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-27T05:00:00+00:00

15

Steam fills the bathroom in a thick haze, the humid air filling my lungs and clearing my sinuses. Sobbing uncontrollably left my face swollen and my eyes a puffy mess. My mind slowly comes around to reality as I stare at my bloody hands. I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing here staring at my hands because I’ve only just acknowledged it right now.

I swallow past the lump in my throat as I clench my fists. The blood that coats my hands is nothing but a stiff, coagulated, sticky mess. A wave of dizziness sways me on my feet. I do my best to root myself in reality, the struggle overwhelming me more than I could have ever thought possible.

A gentle rap sounds on the door. “Penny.”

I close my eyes at the sound of his voice—Valentino. He’s been nothing but gentle this entire time, allowing me to weep against him, dirtying his white shirt with tears and blood. He carried me somewhere, but my eyes saw nothing beyond the scene of my sister with her throat ripped out, my mind flashing between her and my parents. Yet the soft scent of incense and candles that drift over me every time the air kicks on gives it away.

I stumble backwards, my ass hitting the wall of the standing shower before I slide down to the floor.

“I’m coming in.” The lock twists and breaks with ease. I guess I shouldn’t even be surprised at his strength. Low slung sweats cling to his wet body, apparently having showered somewhere else and granting me enough time to sob as my memories play on repeat.

“Hey, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.” I search his eyes, looking for a lie hidden there that he, too, will destroy me. But nothing sparks there, only genuine concern for my wellbeing.

“A vampire attacked her.” I hold his gaze, seeing only sorrow.

“I know.”

Licking my lips, I voice the thought that stabs into my brain like an ice pick. “Was it one of yours?”

“No.” The sincere distress in that one word is enough to allow me to believe him.

And yet… “Do you know who?”

His eyes dart away as his lips press into a thin line while he ignores my question. One I know he has an answer to. But that’s okay, I’ll figure it out. Of that I swear.

For Poppy.

Blowing out a breath, he looks down at me. “Come on, kitten.” He grasps the bottom of my favorite black tank top, coated in a thick layer of blood I’ll never get out of it. He peels it up and over my head, my lacy bralette resting against my skin. His hands pause on mine to leave the bra on at least for now, even though blood hides underneath in a lacy pattern.

But that isn’t what numbs me. It’s the red lines of scars and the bloom of a bruise that discolors my skin. My fingertip brushes over the lines and mottled skin of wounds that aren’t my own.

“You shared her wounds.

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