Page 22 of Tyrant


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I did. I suspected he already knew since the Wraiths did, and they’d have contacted him about it. Waleron was a mystery though. On occasion, he’d disappear for weeks and no one knew where the hell he went.

“Here.” Anstice leaned over the table, grabbed another plate, and set it on the table beside me. “Why don’t you see if she’ll join us for breakfast? I promise, no questions. She’ll feel more comfortable staying here if she meets us.”

Fine. I pushed back from the table and headed downstairs. I paused outside her door—my bedroom door—and took a few deep breaths, waiting until my fists uncurled and the adrenaline pumping through me eased.

I opened the door.

My eyes hit her and the air sucked from my lungs.

The small ground-level window was open and the breeze rushed through the room in a cold embrace. Rayne stood with her back to me, strands of her hair gently swaying from the breeze, arms wrapped around her chest. Her head tilted up at a slight angle as if she was listening to the sounds from outside.

For the first time since I’d met her, she looked peaceful—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and no crease between her eyes. She was a fuckin’ angel, and I was the devil ready to break her from the magnificence.

“Come upstairs and eat,” I said.

The second I spoke, the peacefulness vanished as she looked at me and stiffened.

Then her head bowed as she said hesitantly, “I’m not really hungry.”

Fuck that. “Wasn’t giving you a choice.”

Her head snapped up.

My brows lifted when I saw the brief flick of anger in her narrowed eyes. So, she did have a backbone in that waif’s body. Good, she’d need it.

It was like watching a balloon deflate as her eyes lowered from mine and her shoulders sagged forward. “Okay.”

Jesus, this chick needed a lesson in how to be a bitch.

 

Kilter kept his hand on my lower back as we walked upstairs. He guided me through the kitchen into a dining room, and I immediately noticed the expensive antique furniture.

Scars were immortal, or so Anton had told me, and it was obvious some of the stuff was centuries old. I was by no means worldly, but Anton liked antiques, and on occasion, he let me pick out things on the internet, when he was monitoring of course.

I suspected he had another home somewhere because the items never came to the compound and sometimes Anton would be gone for months at a time.

I liked when he was gone. I liked it even more when Ben went with him. If they both left, Roarke stayed and I kind of liked him. He often tried to shield me from Ben’s cruelty, and he’d be gentle when I’d been forced to do that experiment with him.

“Babe?” Kilter nodded to the oblong wooden table and my heart raced when I noticed the three Scars, at least I assumed they were Scars, watching me.

Walking out the front door sounded really appealing right now. The Wraith woman said I could and no one would stop me. And go where? I had no friends, family, or money. Nothing.

“You will not leave,” Kilter said in a low growl next to my ear.

I gasped, eyes widening. He’d read my mind? He managed to get through my blocks?

“See your surprise, babe. Yeah, we can read most people’s thoughts when they’re not being blocked. Yours have been pretty much blocked. Not often humans can block us,” he explained while his thumb casually stroked my back. “I told you, no one will harm you here.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

He raised his hand and cupped my chin, guiding my head back to meet his eyes. “One day you won’t fear me.” His hand fell away and he whispered, “The Scars want to meet you. Don’t worry, they are harmless kittens.”

Kittens have sharp claws and sharper teeth.

Kilter’s brows rose, and I was surprised to see a look of amusement, but he didn’t say anything.

I concentrated on blocking out my thoughts again. When I was weak, it was difficult to keep the shield around them, but I’d managed it at the compound. It was obvious Kilter was stronger than anyone there, plus he was a Scar.

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