Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1)

by Scarlett St. Clair

I wanted that mouth to do something other than frown at me,

“Sin is our currency, girl,”

His energy was suffocating. Why was everything about him so electric? It was like he had magic.

“That girl’s gonna be the death of you,”

She is the beginning and the end. She is peace and chaos. She is terror knocking at the gates.

Sometimes I thought he was a sheep, and sometimes I thought he was the wolf.

“Come on, little love.”

“Yes, daddy,,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm. Zahariev’s jaw ticked, but the corner of his mouth lifted, eyes gleaming darkly. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and rough.

“Greed is the root of evil,” I said. My brother scoffed. “Says the fucking seed.”

“That’s because you do not like to be contained.” He paused and then added, “Most wild things don’t.”

“You’re a piece of work, little love,” he said. “Don’t you ever do what you’re told?”

“You have a pretty mouth, little love, but you say the ugliest things.”

Fucking brat. She meant everything.

“I didn’t become a heathen until my magic surfaced,” I said. “What’s your excuse?” “I was born this way,” he said.

“Forgiveness is overrated. It’s just something churchgoers shove down your throat so they can beg for it when they sin.”

People will tell you it gets easier, but it never does. There are good days, and there are days when the pain hits like a fucking freight train.”

“If you ever feel like you don’t want to do this anymore…tell me. Give me the chance to bring you back.”

I could see shelves of candles, crystals, and cards, things forbidden by the church—things that made me curious. I wondered if people came here seeking something to believe in because religion had hurt them too.

He kissed me like he owned me, something I’d never wanted before but suddenly realized I could live with, especially if it meant feeling like this every second of every day—high out of my fucking mind, on fire from the inside out, and not a single goddamn drug in my system.

“What are you thinking?” I whispered. He shook his head once. “That you’ve fucked me up, little love.”

As I held him, I couldn’t understand how women, mothers especially, were treated like second-class citizens. This was a miracle. It was magic. This, I would worship over an absent God.

What was the point of life without the promise of eternal paradise? But that was the great lie, wasn’t it? Life was life. It was as meaningful as I made it.

It didn’t matter how much I had changed or how brave I felt. In my parents’ home, I was a child again, hurt and desperate for love.

It was a little unnerving, but then terrible things were born on nights like this. Maybe I am that terrible thing, I thought

“I would go to war for you,” he said again. “I would fight endlessly to keep you if that’s what you wanted.”

“No one handles you, Lilith,” he said. “Good fucking luck to the man who tries.”

“You don’t think I carry you wherever I go? You are unshakable. A menace.

“In this room,” he said, jerking me toward him, “I’m always the boss of you.”

Right now, I was beneath the man whose devotion knew no bounds, and it scared me.

I was possessed, utterly altered from the inside out.

“I could have remained invisible to you, and my devotion to you would be unchanging.”

“If this wasn’t a sin, you’d be a fucking saint,”

It was probably blasphemous to even imply the possibility of sainthood for blow jobs, but I’d take the veneration.

“Let her go, or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

They will call her a demon, but I watched her transform, and I will call her goddess.