Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)

by Raven Kennedy

“Did King Rot hurt you?” he asks, keeping his tone carefully even. Yes. But not in the way you think. “No. He only just walked in before you came.” Midas seems to be placated by that. “I don’t like that ugly bastard being in the same room as you.” I blink in surprise. Ugly? His power is ugly, sure, but the male himself? No. Far from it. Ravinger is achingly beautiful in the same way as when he’s in his Rip form. There’s an ethereal masculinity that doesn’t quite fit in this world. Of course, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at Midas’s evaluation of him. Midas abhors anything less than perfect. He probably looks at Ravinger and sees those strange marks of power that slither just under his skin, and he thinks that makes Ravinger grotesque.

I believe that Midas does care for me, in his own twisted way. But it’s not healthy, and it’s not enough. It’s not what I deserve. I don’t think I’ll ever have the kind of love that I crave.

Slade.rip.ravenger.

Either way, I give myself this moment. Just this one. For the innocent girl who lost the love she thought she had, I let her have this. Because this...this is her quiet goodbye.

“I let you out of your cage,” Midas tells me, as if I should be grateful, as if he did any such thing. “No. I let myself out.”

But the eyes of liars are tricky things.

The way they’re looking at each other is as if nothing else exists.