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He is a Leader, believes in Order, knows when to Rule, and is a Deity.
Emerald eyes so dark they’re almost frighteningly glare down at me. His dark brown hair is trimmed shorter on the sides, and the longer pieces on top are unkempt, giving it that messy, “I just rolled out of bed” look. He’s got a straight nose, and there’s a tic in his chiseled, smooth jaw. He’s dressed in dark denim jeans that hug his thighs, a black T-shirt shows off his broad shoulders and muscular arms, and tennis shoes. Ryat Archer stands there looking every bit pissed off as he does every second of every day.
He’s about six-three and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle.
I vow. You vow. We vow. The ritual is what one must do in order to become a chosen. A chosen must be willing to surrender in all that they do.
A chosen is protected under the ritual. Any and all must treat them as such.
“I’ll own you, Blake.” He shortens my name, his free hand comes up, and he trails a finger down my neck over my racing pulse, making my body break out in goose bumps. “And I think that’s exactly what you want.”
If the chosen one accepts, she is yours until you no longer have use for her.
and medieval-looking with the high walls and spiers on the top. It sits in the middle of nowhere off the two-lane road.
An old white cross sits above the main entrance. You can see where it once was upright due to the discoloration, but at some point, it has fallen. The wind rocks it slightly back and forth, making a creaking sound just adding to the ick factor.
Ahead of me looks to be a large stage and altar. On both sides are long staircases that take you up to a loft overlooking the congregation. In the middle of the loft sits a tub for baptism sunk into the floor up against the ledge. The side facing us is all glass to allow the people of the church to witness. Three steps on either side step down into the water, and it has to be about four feet deep.
“Don’t be ashamed, Blake,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re my chosen one. Be proud. I know I am.”
“I’m going to fuck you right here, right now. That mouth is mine. That ass is mine. That cunt is mine. You’re fucking mine.”
“You live for me now.” He licks up the side of my neck to my ear. “And I for you.” He thrusts in a second finger, and I suck in a deep breath from my nose, closing my watery eyes. “You serve and obey me. I protect and own you.”
“It’s just a fantasy. Everyone has those. And that’s normal.”
“It’s not the violence I crave,” I tell him honestly. “Although I like it rough, I think it’s more of the idea of a man being so overcome with desire for me that he can’t be stopped. And the fact I have no say over what he does. The feeling of having no control makes me feel in control. I let him catch me even though I run. I let him do it even though I fight him,”
“I don’t want you falling asleep in here and drowning.” “Aw, you do care about me.” She smiles. “Can’t fuck a dead chick,” I joke. Well, you can, but then again, that’s not a kink I’m into.
Fucking Matt tried to kill me while we were locked away. That can’t go unpunished.
“Here’s to being mine forever, Blake,” I say, watching her sleep.
“Just know this, Blake. If you try to run from me, I will find you. And when I do, you will regret the day you left me.”
“You were mine yesterday, today, and tomorrow.” He gently kisses my forehead. The tenderness a contradiction to his threatening words. “And you will continue to be mine forever.”
“You’re fired,” I tell her. “What?” Her wide eyes meet mine. “But …” “Get your stuff and get the fuck off this plane.” I lean into her and hear her inhale sharply. “Or I’ll throw you out at fifty thousand feet.”
“Till death do us part, Blake. And I’m not ready to kill you yet.”
“Earlier in the shower made me realize I’ve gone fucking soft on you, Blake. Know why?” He doesn’t let me answer. “Because you cried. Because another man tried to hurt you. That’s what I’m trying to protect you from. I should be your biggest threat. But instead, I’m falling in love with you.”
“I can see you, touch you, and kiss you.” I wipe it away with my thumb. “I can love you.” My eyes drop to her plump lips, and her bottom one trembles. “You, Blakely Rae Archer, are my heaven.”
“I made a vow to protect you, Blake, and I’ll show anyone who tries to hurt you my version of hell.” I’d set the world on fire, including myself, if it meant saving her.
“Fuck, Blake,” he growls, pulling his face from mine. His lips drop to my neck, and I tilt my head to the side. “I love you so goddamn much.”
Ryat Archer is a killer, and all I can think of is I wish I could prove my love for him the way he has for me. He deserves that much. Blood for blood. He’s spilled so much for me. I’m not afraid to bleed for him.
“God, Ryat, how many secrets are you keeping from me?” “I don’t keep count,” he states, his green eyes on mine. “Is this a joke to you?”
“Good. Because you’re stuck with me until you die.” Tilting his head up just a bit, he lightly kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s all I want.” “Aren’t you the romantic?”
“I’ve always been a selfish person, Blake. Willing to do whatever it takes to get where I want to be. And out of all the things I’ve done, you are by far the greatest reward for my selfishness.”
“You think I’d kill for you, but not die for you?” He shakes his head gently. “Silly girl.”
“I’m the kind of man who will crawl across the floor and lick the dirt off your shoes like a peasant begging a king for some scraps. Just to make you think I’m weak. So, when they look away from me, I can slit their throats.”
