Anathema (The Eating Woods, #1)

by Keri Lake

Sablefyre. An ancient element of the gods, forged eons ago in Aethyria’s fiery heart. A single touch could turn a body to ash, and blood to stone.

His appearance was the result of having performed the Emberforge ritual on himself, the same ritual he intended for her son. A rite that only young children were believed to tolerate without any permanent disfigurement, seeing as they hadn’t yet gone through their Ascendency.

“I swear, if she were to get a good fucking, just once, she’d be a whole new person.”

“Go, my Darling, unto that place Where magic still exists Beyond the confines of this cruel world As you will not be missed Instead, I’ll find you in a dream Or a wistful plea on stars Hours of suffering no more redeemed For eternity is ours.”

“Uncle Felix said you were actually dead for eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds. He tried to revive you.”

“I also know that the delicate black rose doesn’t grow well in these parts. Our winters are far too cold for its fragile roots.”

“You may have repulsive eating habits, but I’ll admit, you’re terrifyingly cute,” I spoke on the cusp of a whisper. “Adorrifying. And chaotic. I think I’ll name you Raivox.”

Who was the little mortal with raven hair and that silvery crescent in her eye that reminded him of a winter moon? And why had he not stopped seeing her in his mind since that night? Every detail of her face lingered so vividly in his thoughts, he wanted to carve them out with a blade.

“You have a nice back.” The words tumbled haphazardly from my lips, and I slapped my hand to my mouth far too late to contain them. I turned away, covering my eyes and the humiliating blush that crawled over my face. “Bath. I meant you have a nice bath.” Before he wordlessly strode from the room, closing the door behind him,

him, I caught a distinct dimple in his cheek.

I’d never paid much attention to a man’s haunches before, but for reasons that frustrated me, I couldn’t stop myself. It seemed every inch of him had been carved by God–even his damned ass.

“Perhaps you should walk alongside me, unless you insist on staring at my ass the whole way.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t walk like you’ve got two snapping turtles attached to your ass.”

“Don’t you feel just a small bit of guilt locking me in?” “No.” The obnoxious turn of the key emphasized his point. “Your heart must be the smallest organ you possess.” “And your mouth must be the largest.”

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.”

Much as I fought to deny it, the man captivated me. That spellbinding, defiant nature of his roused a dark and lecherous craving that refused to be smothered.

She was a vision of perfection. How greedily he desired her. His little moon witch.

“I believe it’s called lust and a severely besetting attraction, but what do I know? I’m just his annoying little sister who’s lived with him for nearly two centuries.”

“You fucking look at her, and I’ll carve your eyes from their sockets then cram them down your gullet.”

“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.”

Maevyth. The only constant. A beacon in a dark, black sea. 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.

I am yours to touch, Maevyth. I crave your touch more than my next breath.”

“If this is punishment, then I welcome an eternity of suffering.” The kiss that followed was gentle and teasing in the way he merely brushed his lips across mine. “You consume me entirely, little moon witch.”

“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.”