Read Online Beast (The Submissively Ever After Series Book 1) by Kim Faulks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kim Faulks
Tags: fairy tale romance, horror thriller, Paranormal dark werewolves & shifters romance, ghost suspense thriller, dominant and submissive dark fantasy, gothic forced fairytale romance captive ghost
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just before she closed her lips over the rim of the crystal glass. I watched the red wine sluice around the edge, before her throat worked.
The others around the table followed suit. I guessed they were all in need of a distraction.
"You assumed I didn’t know about the last boat? The one carrying the majority of your family’s fortune? The one docked at Scully Harbor?"
The stifled air inside the dining room turned viscous. I tried to inhale and swallowed the air instead. A glass rattled. I scanned the table. All eyes were on Mark.
"Do you take me as a man of limited intelligence?" His question was met with vacant stares. "I take that as a yes, then. What did you think was going to happen? I’d marry Belle, take her away from the rest of you thieving cunts?"
"Now, there’s no need—" Beatrice’s husband grabbed her hand.
The flare of anger in her eyes said she was not to be consoled so easy. Beatrice tore her hand from his grasp, slamming her fist down on the table. The blow rattled the plates. Venomous stares found her target. "If you think you’re getting your murderous hands on our money, you’re very much mistaken."
Silence filled the air as a wicked smile slipped across Beatrice’s lips. "What, you thought none of us knew about your little meeting with our father? Two of you went in the woods, Marcus. But only one came home."
CHAPTER SIX
M ark’s eyes widened. "You knew?"
"About father, yes. But this,"—her gaze skirted the room—"no. None of us did."
"More wine?" Mark raised the bottle to meet their empty glasses. There was something about the gesture that nagged at me. A forgotten moment wore at me, like the beginnings of a blister. Glass clinked, draining the rest of the bottle as Mark finished. "Then I guess I need to re-structure my plan."
Beatrice looked at the glass in her hands with an odd expression. That nagging thought bloomed into a fist which gripped my insides as she murmured. "What plan is that?"
Mark glanced up, holding her gaze. "The plan where I kill you and live happily ever after."
"Happily?" Selene’s husband was the first to fall. His head slammed against the table, smashing the dainty porcelain cups, and stayed there.
Beatrice never took her eyes off the glass she held. What was left of the wine coated the sides with each sway of her hand. Her sister, Selene, pitched forward, clawing the table, until her eyes widened and she dropped amongst the delicate porcelain table setting with a crash. I jumped at the sound, staring the slick trails of blood leaking from her nose.
The crimson drops bloomed against the crisp white doilies as her husband fell to the floor beside her. Beatrice grasped the tablecloth, dragging the plates, cups, and bowls with her as she tried to stand. Mark sat on the opposite side, watching with a blank stare as she stumbled, making two steps toward the door before she succumbed. She hit the ground, her arm outstretched in a warning to those who entered.
His deep voice wrenched my gaze to the doorway as Lord Bête stepped through the doorway, with Belle in tow. He froze at the sight of Beatrice’s outstretched hand against the floor, then rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside her.
The change in the room was sudden. One minute the walls contained a calculated murderer, then the next Mark turned into a whimpering fool. He grabbed his throat, pulling the bowl and saucer in front of him to the floor. A shrill scream tore through the room. The sound punched me in the chest. I ground my jaw, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but watch as she rushed to her lover’s side.
The hunter lifted his hand and pointed at Lord Bête. "He did this. Poison."
He slumped forward, grappling with her hands as she pulled him from the chair.
"No. No. No." Belle sobbed. I could hear the hysteria bleeding into her voice. I wanted to turn and run and drag Lord Bête with me, knowing this was the defining moment. This would change the course of not just their
The others around the table followed suit. I guessed they were all in need of a distraction.
"You assumed I didn’t know about the last boat? The one carrying the majority of your family’s fortune? The one docked at Scully Harbor?"
The stifled air inside the dining room turned viscous. I tried to inhale and swallowed the air instead. A glass rattled. I scanned the table. All eyes were on Mark.
"Do you take me as a man of limited intelligence?" His question was met with vacant stares. "I take that as a yes, then. What did you think was going to happen? I’d marry Belle, take her away from the rest of you thieving cunts?"
"Now, there’s no need—" Beatrice’s husband grabbed her hand.
The flare of anger in her eyes said she was not to be consoled so easy. Beatrice tore her hand from his grasp, slamming her fist down on the table. The blow rattled the plates. Venomous stares found her target. "If you think you’re getting your murderous hands on our money, you’re very much mistaken."
Silence filled the air as a wicked smile slipped across Beatrice’s lips. "What, you thought none of us knew about your little meeting with our father? Two of you went in the woods, Marcus. But only one came home."
CHAPTER SIX
M ark’s eyes widened. "You knew?"
"About father, yes. But this,"—her gaze skirted the room—"no. None of us did."
"More wine?" Mark raised the bottle to meet their empty glasses. There was something about the gesture that nagged at me. A forgotten moment wore at me, like the beginnings of a blister. Glass clinked, draining the rest of the bottle as Mark finished. "Then I guess I need to re-structure my plan."
Beatrice looked at the glass in her hands with an odd expression. That nagging thought bloomed into a fist which gripped my insides as she murmured. "What plan is that?"
Mark glanced up, holding her gaze. "The plan where I kill you and live happily ever after."
"Happily?" Selene’s husband was the first to fall. His head slammed against the table, smashing the dainty porcelain cups, and stayed there.
Beatrice never took her eyes off the glass she held. What was left of the wine coated the sides with each sway of her hand. Her sister, Selene, pitched forward, clawing the table, until her eyes widened and she dropped amongst the delicate porcelain table setting with a crash. I jumped at the sound, staring the slick trails of blood leaking from her nose.
The crimson drops bloomed against the crisp white doilies as her husband fell to the floor beside her. Beatrice grasped the tablecloth, dragging the plates, cups, and bowls with her as she tried to stand. Mark sat on the opposite side, watching with a blank stare as she stumbled, making two steps toward the door before she succumbed. She hit the ground, her arm outstretched in a warning to those who entered.
His deep voice wrenched my gaze to the doorway as Lord Bête stepped through the doorway, with Belle in tow. He froze at the sight of Beatrice’s outstretched hand against the floor, then rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside her.
The change in the room was sudden. One minute the walls contained a calculated murderer, then the next Mark turned into a whimpering fool. He grabbed his throat, pulling the bowl and saucer in front of him to the floor. A shrill scream tore through the room. The sound punched me in the chest. I ground my jaw, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but watch as she rushed to her lover’s side.
The hunter lifted his hand and pointed at Lord Bête. "He did this. Poison."
He slumped forward, grappling with her hands as she pulled him from the chair.
"No. No. No." Belle sobbed. I could hear the hysteria bleeding into her voice. I wanted to turn and run and drag Lord Bête with me, knowing this was the defining moment. This would change the course of not just their
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