Anathema (The Eating Woods, #1)

by Keri Lake

I kept on singing as I rested my hand against him, and I felt him shake with a sob. Tears formed in my eyes. My heart clenched and broke for this poor, helpless creature, who seemed to want nothing more than a gentle touch.

well ok now im sobbing

And the sound that rose up from below pierced him in the heart. A song he remembered from some distant memory he couldn’t place. An angelic voice that strummed his soul. The most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

I LOVE THIS GOD DAMN MICRO TROPE AHHHH

something else pulsed through his veins, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had him feeling so unsettled. Beyond jealousy. Something deeper. Darker. Possessive.

insufferably beautiful with her annoying little habits that seized his attention and left him wondering what she tasted like. If her lips were sweet, like berries, or bitter, like his liquor.

her eyes lit up as she took in the room that once belonged to his mother.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

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

He turned his head to the side, refusing to let her see the yearning that was damned near beaming in his eyes.

Y E A R N I N G

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

Inject this into my veins

“Who are you?” “Who do you think I am?” All of her features matched those of the death goddess I’d recently learned about. “Morsana. Am I dead?”

“He is irresistibly provocative, isn’t he?” Her eyes flickered, as though excited by his intensity. “There’s something you should know about him, Maevyth.”

Oh shit

“In that space, resides the dark side of you.” It was Dolion who answered. “The creature that feeds on rage, vengeance, apathy. Every living thing possesses this darkness, whether they care to admit it, or not, but we are taught from a young age to suppress it. By going there, you are opening a door, of sorts, and if you’re not careful, it may be quite difficult to close it.”

The winding, searing tendrils of black flame curled through me, stretching and coiling around my muscles. The heat intensified, rippling through my hand, throbbing between my thighs,

“What is something that all men yearn for in life but doesn’t begin until the last dying breath?”

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

“I wouldn’t call it misfortune, but rather, a means of weeding out weaker prospects. There are those who fear flirting with death, while some of us find it utterly enthralling.”

“The whims of fate are an irksome intrusion, and yet …” He canted toward me, as if to kiss me, his lips mere inches from mine. “Who could’ve predicted that one touch of your pounding pulse would be so disarming.”

“What wicked spells you weave, little witch.”

My inclination is to break whatever stirs my impulsive nature.”

Long, lazy curls spilled over her slender shoulders, her lips curved to a bitable pout that accentuated her dolorously beautiful face. The soft glow of her pale skin gave her an ethereal and ghostly aura. Delicate. Breakable.

An ache throbbed in his chest at the sight of her, his every thought plagued by her haunting allure.

She’d laid down the gauntlet with that dress, daring him to indulge, but kissing her would’ve been the sweetest poison. An intoxicating ...

“I rarely trust the enchanting.” A fleeting look at me, and he sipped his drink. “Particularly something so beautiful.”

“I’m going to give you a little more.” “Yes. Please.” I opened my eyes to see his rapt gaze, the fascination in his intense stare.

“Chaos,” I said on a choked breath. “It feels like chaos.”

A moan leaked past my lips, and I felt his fingers tighten on mine, crushing my hand.

“What the seven hells are you?” he rasped through labored breaths. “Anyone privy to this loathsome curse would fear the flame, but you … ” Brow furrowed, he shook his head. “You revel in it like a drunken spirityne.”

He lurched toward me, clamped his hand around my nape, and crushed his lips to mine.

EEEEEEEE

A raw, aching need weakened my knees, while he kissed me with the assertion of a man who’d never been refused by a woman.

“You are a fucking torment, Lunamiszka,”

An intensity that stirred my nerves to life, quickly severed when his hand pressed against my throat, breaking the kiss.

“It can’t ...” His voice drifted off, eyes losing focus as he seemed to slip into thoughts. “It’s okay. I want this.” “You don’t know what this is.”

“Maevyth,” he called out for me, and I paused, with my hand on the lever. “We can never do this again.”

MOTHER FUCKER

Torryn. I’d learned through Rykaia that he’d long been in love with her and apparently had an inclination to kill anything that so much as looked at her sideways.

i’m obsessed with them

“I have slept for a very long time. But since you arrived, I don’t want to sleep. I want to jump and dance and breathe again.”

“Just promise me your fragile, mortal heart won’t give out on me.”

“We’re doomed, Maevyth. The fun governor has arrived, and he is not happy.”

“You so much as breathe across her neck, and I will take pleasure in skewering your skull before I set it aflame.”

heart eyes

“Zevander?” The sound of his name on her lips in that pained, breathy tone had his fingers gouging the arms of the chair.

LETS GET READY TO RUMBLEEEE

Still, his head tormented him with the visuals. Relentless images of her obnoxiously wet cunt welcoming every rung of his piercings. Warm and tight, squeezing them with each lazy thrust.

my brain short circuited at the piercings

What was this exquisite creature? This peculiar little enchantress who stirred his soul?

Gods, he’d have sacrificed his next breath to be the bastard who made her scream in ecstasy right then.

“Da’haj mihirit voluptasz et da’minha vitatej.” Give me pleasure and I will give you life.

the moment her fingertips made contact, Zevander felt the glide of warm silk across his own fingertips, as if he were touching her himself.

oh shit

“Veni’adj meh, Lunamiszka.” Come for me, my little moon witch.

The black smoke drifted upward, rising up from her hand, and slipped back beneath his skin on a pleasurable jolt that had him groaning.

How greedily he desired her. His little moon witch.

“Dear gods, Maeve. You better pray my brother doesn’t see you …. This ….” She lifted the scorpion charm and let it fall against my back again, reminding me of its presence. “Well, I’ll just apologize now for any indecency on his part.”

I visually devoured the mystically enchanting ambience, eyes feasting on every beguiling detail.

I just like this sentence

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

“Follow my lead.” With that, he banded his arm around my waist, his other palm against mine.

IM GONNA COMBUST