If you had a child or a nephew who didn’t have Elite Blood, meaning they didn’t have what it took to be a King, then they got thrown in to be a Lost Boy. Trained. Well, that was what I was supposed to be doing, but instead, I have another plan for these boys. I want to fight Humphrey. Fight his cause and fight it to the death. He took my baby girl and killed her. Now… now I start a very detailed plan to kill him.
Slamming the book closed, I think over what I just read. I’m beginning to see the shift in Katsia from what she was in the beginning. She’s stronger. There’s vengeance in her blood, and we all know that once vengeance seeps into your blood, there’s no extracting that from your system. The only way that gets siphoned out is by getting your revenge. So all Lost Boys are somehow intertwined into the family of one of the Kings. This world is, once again, messed up. Flipping over, I hit my light and slide under my covers, snuggling into my warm sheets and drifting into a deep sleep.
Fog from the empty night expels from my lungs, and I stop running, leaning over to catch my breath. “Riddle me this, Kitty.”
“NO!” I scream, shielding my ears with my hands. “Fuck you!” Slamming my eyes closed, I shoot forward, the damp leaves sliding under the soles of my shoes. My heart pounds in my chest and my blood tears through my veins like bullets full of adrenalin. I keep running blindly as sweat trickles down my cool flesh, goose bumps breaking out over my spine, so I open my eyes and stop. Looking out to the still lake in the middle of the forest, I whisper in confusion, “What?”
I spin around to try to figure out where I just came from, but nothing is there. Only the bushes that hide the lake—the same lake Bishop and I fooled around in. A single bright firefly flutters in the air, swimming around in front of my face. I smile, letting the little bug light something inside of my gut. Reaching out, I go to touch it, but just as my fingertip connects with the little body, it turns to blood, dripping down over my finger.
“Ew!” I pull my finger back then look around the empty lake again. “Why am I here?” Wind whisks through my hair, igniting my skin and senses, and that’s when I smell it—the sweet, soapy scent of man. Inching my head over my shoulder, I smile softly.
“Took you long enough.”
Bishop steps forward so he’s standing directly beside me and looks out to the lake. “You run faster now.”
I grin, turning to face him. “Or you’ve gotten slower.” Looking him up and down, I take in what he’s wearing and my eyebrows pull together in confusion. He has no shirt on, his delicious body on full display, and his ripped jeans cover his long, lean legs. Barefoot, standing there like that in the middle of almost winter seems ridiculously strange. Actually, this entire setting feels strange. I look out toward the rock Bishop and I played around on what feels like years ago now, and smile. “There’s that rock.” When he doesn’t answer, I turn to face him, but he’s gone.
“Bishop?” I call out, looking around for him. Something doesn’t feel right. Actually, everything feels extremely wrong.
“Kitty,” Nate murmurs, and I spin around, seeing Nate leaning on his elbows in the sand, with no shirt on either.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask him, finally having enough of all the lack of clothes.
“I don’t know.” Nate runs his eyes up and down my body then grins. “Aren’t you?”
“No, I….” I look down to see I’m wearing nothing but a little black G-string and a black bra. “Oh my God!” But he’s right. I’m not cold.
“Nice. Can see why you’re both hitting that.” Brantley’s dark voice comes in from the shadows behind Nate.
“Bishop, yes. Nate, no,” I correct, my hands on my hips.
“Nate, almost—twice.” Nate smirks.
I open my mouth, just about to correct him again, when Hunter, Jase, Ace, Saint, Eli, Cash, and Chase slowly come in behind Brantley, all similarly dressed.
“The gang’s all here?” I ask, shaking my head.
Nate glares over my shoulder, his eyes going dark. “Now they are.”
A hand runs up my thigh while another grips onto my hip, holding me into place. I close my eyes. “Bishop….”
His lips skim over my shoulder, his breath falling on my cool skin. “Who owns you?” Then he licks me from shoulder blade to shoulder blade while his hand on my thigh travels up to my apex. “Who owns you, Madison?”
I moan out slightly, biting down on my bottom lip.
He squeezes. “I’m not a patient man.”
“Why?” I ask. Even in the midst of my lust, my stubborn ass still can’t let some shit go.
His fingertips dig into the flesh of my thigh. “Say it. Tell me what I want to hear,” he growls, his lips pressing against the rim of my earlobe.
“You.”
Shit.
He chuckles into my ear. “Good.” His hand sprawls over my stomach. “Because you’re about to get fucked like I don’t.”
Wait, what?
I turn to face him, confused. When he sees my puzzlement, he grins and looks over my shoulder. Another hand comes to the front of my throat and squeezes down.
Shit. Double shit.
Why does everything feel so good? Bishop drops to his knees in front of me as whoever it is behind me grips onto my throat, tilting my head to the side as his teeth latch onto my neck.
“You want this and you know it.”
Brantley.
Fuck.
Bishop tears my G-string off, and I look down at him as
