Read Online The Horde Without End (The World Without End) by Nazarea Andrews - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nazarea Andrews
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just because you think he's too young?" My voice is thick with disbelief and a little mocking—maybe because I'm not trying to keep it from seeping through. "That's not just shortsighted, it's stupid and reckless."
I turn to Finn. "You've given them the stupid warning. It's time to go."
Finn doesn't say anything as I turn on my heel and stalk out. Maybe he has something left to say to the idiots who run this Haven, but I'm done.
I'm leaving. Collin is out there, with a priest of all fucking things. And I'll do whatever it takes to get him back.
Chapter 22. Impossibly Surreal
The room feels suffocating small. Even more so than it did last night, when all we had was a tiny bed to share—Finn ended up sprawling on the end, while I curled in the dirty corner, half sitting.
Now it feels half that size, and every move he makes, every brush of fabric over his skin, rubs at exposed nerves.
Maybe it's because my grief is welling up so big it will make even this tiny room smaller. Can a feeling eclipse space, shrink it to something that is insignificant and negligible?
Because right now, it feels like it can.
"The Aldermen were startled by how rude you are," he says. I swallow hard and jerk at the lacing of my corset top. Is that really what he wants to talk about?
"Because if I had been a polite little windup doll, you would have been the same? You were about five seconds from shooting one of them."
Oh look at that. I
can
sound normal, even when grief is choking me.
"I have the right to be a bastard—I've lived long enough and killed enough that no one can say a damn thing."
"Is that what it is? Killing gives us rights?"
He goes still and silent, and I shake my head, jerking the corset off abruptly. The lacings sting against my skin, and then it’s gone and I can breathe. “I think death should earn me something. Watching my best friend dead on a morgue table—“
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Something about his voice warns me to stop, that this is dangerous. But dangerous seems like a brilliant idea right now. I twist to face him. “I’m falling apart. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yes,” he snaps.
I stalk to him and shove at his chest, furious. “Then go. Leave me the fuck alone, O’Malley. Go find someone who knows who the hell you are and gives a shit—I don’t need you.”
“You’re better than this,” he snarls, shoving back.
“He was my
lover,
you bastard,” I scream.
His face spasms, and he shoves me into the wall. “He was a boy. A distraction. You deserve so much more than a paltry Haven boy.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I hiss.
Finn’s eyes flick down, and I realize, abruptly, that I’m in nothing but the skin tight pants and strapless bra.
“I know that you need someone as strong as you. Someone who won’t be under some fucking delusion that you need protection.”
“Dustin was strong,” I whisper.
Finn laughs, his hands on my hips tightening, almost bruising. “Dustin wasn’t what you need.”
“How do you know?”
A mocking smile. “You walked away. When you find that one thing you can’t live without—that person—losing them will destroy you. It won’t be something you walk away from. Dustin was a distraction—a plaything. Nothing more.”
I slap him, hard. And I don’t know if it’s because he has the gall to say that to me, or if it’s because I hate him for being right. A smile ticks up the corner of his lips, and then he’s kissing me.
And I don’t push him away. I gasp under his lips, and he growls, a low noise that hits me, low, his fingers digging into my hip as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. It twists with mine then retreats, and I whimper. He catches the noise, sucks lightly on my lip and my tongue, and I can’t—I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe and I don’t even care.
His lips rip away from mine, and I whimper, terrified he’ll step away. But he doesn’t. His big hands come up and jerk
I turn to Finn. "You've given them the stupid warning. It's time to go."
Finn doesn't say anything as I turn on my heel and stalk out. Maybe he has something left to say to the idiots who run this Haven, but I'm done.
I'm leaving. Collin is out there, with a priest of all fucking things. And I'll do whatever it takes to get him back.
Chapter 22. Impossibly Surreal
The room feels suffocating small. Even more so than it did last night, when all we had was a tiny bed to share—Finn ended up sprawling on the end, while I curled in the dirty corner, half sitting.
Now it feels half that size, and every move he makes, every brush of fabric over his skin, rubs at exposed nerves.
Maybe it's because my grief is welling up so big it will make even this tiny room smaller. Can a feeling eclipse space, shrink it to something that is insignificant and negligible?
Because right now, it feels like it can.
"The Aldermen were startled by how rude you are," he says. I swallow hard and jerk at the lacing of my corset top. Is that really what he wants to talk about?
"Because if I had been a polite little windup doll, you would have been the same? You were about five seconds from shooting one of them."
Oh look at that. I
can
sound normal, even when grief is choking me.
"I have the right to be a bastard—I've lived long enough and killed enough that no one can say a damn thing."
"Is that what it is? Killing gives us rights?"
He goes still and silent, and I shake my head, jerking the corset off abruptly. The lacings sting against my skin, and then it’s gone and I can breathe. “I think death should earn me something. Watching my best friend dead on a morgue table—“
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Something about his voice warns me to stop, that this is dangerous. But dangerous seems like a brilliant idea right now. I twist to face him. “I’m falling apart. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yes,” he snaps.
I stalk to him and shove at his chest, furious. “Then go. Leave me the fuck alone, O’Malley. Go find someone who knows who the hell you are and gives a shit—I don’t need you.”
“You’re better than this,” he snarls, shoving back.
“He was my
lover,
you bastard,” I scream.
His face spasms, and he shoves me into the wall. “He was a boy. A distraction. You deserve so much more than a paltry Haven boy.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I hiss.
Finn’s eyes flick down, and I realize, abruptly, that I’m in nothing but the skin tight pants and strapless bra.
“I know that you need someone as strong as you. Someone who won’t be under some fucking delusion that you need protection.”
“Dustin was strong,” I whisper.
Finn laughs, his hands on my hips tightening, almost bruising. “Dustin wasn’t what you need.”
“How do you know?”
A mocking smile. “You walked away. When you find that one thing you can’t live without—that person—losing them will destroy you. It won’t be something you walk away from. Dustin was a distraction—a plaything. Nothing more.”
I slap him, hard. And I don’t know if it’s because he has the gall to say that to me, or if it’s because I hate him for being right. A smile ticks up the corner of his lips, and then he’s kissing me.
And I don’t push him away. I gasp under his lips, and he growls, a low noise that hits me, low, his fingers digging into my hip as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. It twists with mine then retreats, and I whimper. He catches the noise, sucks lightly on my lip and my tongue, and I can’t—I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe and I don’t even care.
His lips rip away from mine, and I whimper, terrified he’ll step away. But he doesn’t. His big hands come up and jerk
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