Savage Lands (Savage Lands, #1)

by Stacey Marie Brown

“Now, lift up your beautiful face and show everyone in the room they can take nothing away from you. No matter what. Never apologize for how others react to your strength.”

“You can’t tell if he’s human or fae?” “There is nothing around him.” Tad’s attention pointed at me. “Or around you.” “What?” I straightened. “Me?” “Your aura is void of both life and death. Nothing.” Tad tilted his head. “Like him.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Danger and violence want you.”

“They hover around you.”

“And you welcome them.”

Right as I drifted off, I thought I felt a hand smooth across my temple, words drifting over me like a wisp of wind: “Fight. You need to survive.”

“True or not, you have opened the door for trouble. Good or bad, he put a bullseye on your back without saying a word, and you can’t die,” she

Prisons thrived on breaking people down and rebuilding them. Maybe it worked for others—bad people. But when you broke down good people, we didn’t rise again as even nicer people. No. That’s not how it worked. We rose like a dragon, one that would spew fire and burn everything to ash. We became the depraved.

His voice could have been used as a weapon in itself. It was gravelly, deep, seductive, and my body reacted to the timbre. It felt like swimming naked in a barrel of the best whiskey imported from Scotland. Smooth, sexy, stinging, and callused all at the same time. It licked my pussy, carved into my bones, and heated my skin.

“Give them glory in your death or in your killing.” The guard’s sentiment halted me for a moment, my gaze snapping to the fae. For the first time, I really noticed him. The horse-shifter, Zander, stood there, his chocolate brown eyes staring into mine. “Let their energy and your fear feed you, not starve you.” His gaze remained intensely on me. Meaningful. “Use your head, find weapons in anything. Be the one who prevails.”

You cannot die. You don’t understand.”

“Fuck you,” I sneered in his ear.

“Fuck you back,” his voice scraped the back of my neck, the feel of his lips brushing my ear. “Now fight.”

His thick, corded shoulders and arms were the kind you could picture bending a car in half or wrapping around you like a shield. His torso and chest were carved with muscle and decorated with deep scars and tattoos, a timeline of his life. Symbols and pattern tattoos scrolled down his arms, and one started at his side and slipped below his pants line. I couldn’t decipher the meaning of any of them, but there was no denying they were sexy as hell. He was brutal and sensual, terrifying and captivating.

“Because…” he muttered, his gaze heavy. “I know where you are about to go. The darkness will seep into you, blackening your soul if you let it.” His voice was rough, oozing down my neck, making me shudder. “What you had to do out there? Death demands payment from you as well. Compensation for living.”

“She’s mine.” He paused for a moment, our gazes locking at his words before a cruel grin twisted his mouth. “My kill…”

He peered down at me, our eyes connecting for a moment, his intense regard burning into me. He felt familiar. Like I had known him forever. A piece I didn’t know I was looking for. The feeling scraped at my mind and chest.

There are very few people who find someone who challenges them, makes them feel alive, fights and loves with the same passion.”