Of Roses and Rituals by Prater S. L

Author:Prater, S. L.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2022-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

“Saints,” Fiona groaned. Wincing against the gaslights in the sitting room, she battled a pounding headache.

“Are you actually awake this time?” Elias rumbled beneath her.

“Of course I’m awake,” she said, rubbing circles in her temples. “Oh . . .” She looked herself over, still wrapped up in his arms, head pillowed against his chest. She sat up. “I slept on you. But that’s against the rules.”

He snorted at her. “If your fears were for romance, it was hardly that. You drooled on me.”

Blood flamed in her cheeks. She glared at the damning spot of moisture on his shirt. “Oh dear.”

He helped her stand. Pins and needles shot from her heel to her toes. Wiggling her feet, she focused. Her magics were more mobile than before. Less clingy and dull. More memories of her behavior from earlier returned, and she groaned anew at herself. Elias’s knowing smile wasn’t helping. Her mouth was dry. She smacked her lips together.

He handed her a glass of water from the end table at his side. An empty plate—the remains of his dinner—sat next to it. Gulping, she drained the glass, then handed it back to him.

“You ate here.” Her stomach grumbled.

“Another rule broken,” he teased, setting the glass back down. “We aren’t supposed to eat together, but you were out cold and needed care, I was starving, and your rules are stupid.”

Her stomach growled loudly. She touched her abdomen to stifle it.

“I’ll wake the automatons.” He started to rise.

“No, no. You’ve done enough to care for me. More than you should have,” she said, her tone harsher than she meant it to be, but she was out of sorts and blushing furiously. She ambled to the doorway before she remembered her manners. “Thank you,” she said without looking at him.

“You’re welcome,” he grumbled.

It took a while to walk the never-ending corridors on feet that prickled and legs that ached. The bossy green automatons in the kitchen overfed her, then sent her on her way. It was well past her bedtime, and although she’d slept for hours in the comfort of Elias’s arms, she was ready to sleep for several more.

The manor was too quiet. The sound of her padding feet echoed on the marble floors. A sense of foreboding fell over her and gave her pause. Fear tickled up her spine like scurrying spider legs, accompanied by a haunting sense that someone or something watched her. She dared a look over her shoulder.

A great shaggy dog, as big as a lion, stared back at her from the end of the hall.

Growling deep in its throat, its lips curled back, mouth impossibly wide, eyes yellow. Burn marks marred the black, matted fur of its thick chest. Sharp teeth, pink with blood, filled its maw. Fiona lost her breath. Her mouth fell open, and a cry caught in her chest.

Her feet reacted before the rest of her did, launching her away. She sprinted down the hall. Eventually her voice returned, and she screamed. Pounding paws, the clatter of sharp nails, snapping teeth, and heavy panting pursued her.

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