Anathema (The Eating Woods, #1)

by Keri Lake

What a terrible burden to watch something die.

It was sickening that it took a suitor to spare my reputation, my future. How tragic that a woman’s worth equated to the depth of a man’s pockets.

Behind my ribs stood a graveyard of empty caskets. A chest full of nameless tombstones. An emptiness which afforded me a small measure of clarity that she refused to acknowledge.

This girl is the anathema, a witch,

“Can I at least ask your name? So that I’m not mentally calling you angry eyes?” A sound of disapproval followed. “Zevander.” “Zevander,” I echoed. “I’m Maevyth.” “I didn’t ask.”

“It means you’re persistently frustrating and you ask too many questions.” “All that in a single word?” “We like brevity. And silence.” “Are you speaking for all of your personalities?”

Something about him brought out a side of me I mostly kept subdued, for fear of the consequences. I’d always had a sharp tongue, but men, in particular, had always found a way of silencing it, either by a slap to the face, or flogging.

“Don’t you feel just a small bit of guilt locking me in?” “No.”

“Your heart must be the smallest organ you possess.” “And your mouth must be the largest.”

The ashes of our dead protect us in battle, the goddess, in death.

“You don’t have to look threatening to be threatening. Perceived weakness is your most vicious weapon. Remember that, as it will serve as an advantage. You’re small, but your power can make up for your stature, if you learn to wield it well.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … whatever that was.” “Never apologize for incapacitating your enemy.” “You’re not my enemy, though.” “Aren’t I?” “I mean, you are rude, sometimes. And grouchy. And extremely impatient.” I smiled when he frowned back at me. “But you’re a good teacher. I’ll give you that.”

She was beautiful. No, beautiful was too weak a word. She was intoxicating. Exquisitely divine.

“Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Lunamiszka.” “Do I still annoy you?” she asked. “Endlessly.”

“Everything is poison with the proper dose. Even you.”

“Who could’ve predicted that one touch of your pounding pulse would be so disarming.” Warm breath scattered across my skin, and my heart stuttered with anticipation as he thumbed the curve of my neck. “What wicked spells you weave, little witch.”

“Do you know how the scorpion chooses his mate?” Rykaia whispered in my ear. “Promenade à deux. By asking her to dance.”

“Fuck it all, you stubborn bastard. She’s your mate, Zevander!” Dolion’s words brought him to a grinding halt, and eyes narrowed, Zevander turned to face him. “What did you just say?” “I said she is your mate. I saw it in a vision. She wore your sigil, the mark of your scorpion. As did your son.”

Zevander had somehow managed to dig his fingers past sharp ribs and into the stoniest corner of my heart. A place so few had ever tenanted.

“I want you. I want you so desperately that I’d kill anything with a pulse just to have you for one night. This insatiable craving I feel …” A muscle in his jaw twitched with the tension in his words and he squeezed my hand. “I can’t fucking breathe. I ache for you, Maevyth. Believe me when I say this.”

He’d lived too long with the practicality of knowing the stars were too far out of reach, and yet, in his arms lay the brightest of them all. The girl with the moon in her eyes and fire in her soul.

Claiming her, though, meant offering up another target for his adversaries, and a mate was far more dangerous than a sister. She was a weakness, a pawn they could use to make him heel like a dog. Because losing a mate was said to be more painful than burning alive.

A light too bright for his eyes, but damn the gods, even if he had to maim and kill for all eternity to keep her safe from his enemies, one fact remained true. She was his. Lunamiszka. My little moon witch.

“Should you slip into that state again, I will grab that rope with both hands and pull you back.” The furrow in his brow deepened. “And if it doesn’t work next time?” “I won’t let go. I promise.”

“You are mine, moon witch. For all eternity and whatever lies beyond it. No soul has ever been more intricately woven into mine than yours.”

“I will not let anything hurt you.” Finger hooking my chin, he tipped my head back, his eyes glowing pools of molten lava. “I have killed in a variety of ways, Maevyth, but anything that dares attempt to harm you tonight will suffer the most violent of them all,” he said in a voice that was somehow fierce and chillingly calm at the same time. “Believe me when I tell you this.” His lips pressed to mine, and I clutched him tighter, letting him wind me in his web of safety. "They'd be fools to tempt such fate. Not a single creature would be spared when I burned it all to the ground."

“If preventing this plague means sacrificing your life, then I’ve no interest in saving everyone else. The whole world could perish of disease and famine, for all I care.”