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‘This is for every woman you’ve preyed upon, every girl you have accosted and taken from without asking permission. I know I’m not the first.’ She leaned in. ‘But I will be your last. If you or your men ever try this again, you will pray for these nightmares. Because they will be nothing compared to what I will do to you.’
To Elara, a reader was an alchemist. They turned the mundane into something extraordinary, transforming words on a page into entire worlds. To steal away from reality, to feel real emotions for things that didn’t exist? Elara knew she possessed the Three, but reading was a special kind of magick.
She dropped off the horse, bounded towards him and tried to shove him. It had absolutely no effect. ‘You cunt!’ she seethed. One hand flew out to grapple her wrists together as she raised them to push him again. His other gripped her jaw tightly. ‘Keep using that filthy mouth and I’ll wash it out with soap.’
His eyes dragged to her lips, darkening. ‘Because, Elara, I may be a monster, but you make me want to be a saint.’
