Lady of Doom and Devotion (RITES OF POSSESSION #4) by Eva Chase EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Eva Chase
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 8.1 MB
- Price: Free
Ivy
The room where I’m being held prisoner smells like stale perfume and
blood. The latter I assume comes from the crusted red-brown smears
that streak across the gilded wallpaper.
This mansion must be the residence of some noble—or used to be
before my captors took it over. A couple of the men in soldier uniforms are
digging through a wardrobe carved from fine marlwood, matching the
elaborate frame of the four-poster bed. Shards of crystal that might have
once been fancy perfume bottles litter the thick rug.
Along with the smeared blood and the broken crystal, someone has
slashed into the cushions on the chairs so the stuffing spills out like fluffy
guts. There’s a darker ruddy splotch in the middle of the bedsheets that I
don’t want to look at too closely.
Beyond the broad picture window, all I can see is the nearby stone wall
and a sprawl of empty fields beyond it. The house’s shadow stretches long
in the late-afternoon sunlight.
I’m guessing this is one of the country estates I’ve heard and read about,
a summer home where some exalted family could retreat when they tired of
city politics.
It doesn’t look as if anyone’s been having a relaxing time here recently.
The men toss several dresses that they retrieved from the wardrobe onto
the floor. Their leader peers down at them.
Lothar, the king’s secondary magical advisor and apparent head of the
conspiracy to murder that king, shifts his tall, lopsided frame with a
thoughtful air. I still haven’t gotten used to the asymmetry of his body, one
arm missing all the way to the shoulder in one of the most extreme
dedication sacrifices I’ve ever seen.
That is, one of the most extreme outside of the poor accomplices he and
his supporters have had carved up to the barest edge of survival. Great God
help us all, how much power can this man wield when he combines his gift
with those of his victims?
I have no idea what his gift even is. So far I haven’t seen it in action,
haven’t felt the tingle of magic coursing off him.
He points at a confection of sleek pewter-gray silk. “That one. Fine but
not too eye-catching. Have our ‘guest’ put it on.”
His thick baritone takes on a sneering edge with the word “guest.” We
both know he’s not offering any hospitality to me.
But my arms move all the same. My hands lift to yank off the plain
woolen dress I was wearing when he stole me away from my companions
this morning.
The wound on my side where one of Lothar’s underlings stabbed me
last night aches beneath its bandage. With all my might, I scream silently at
my muscles to resist.
I can’t so much as clench my jaw, let alone hold my body back.
The woman standing next to Lothar has me in the iron grip of her gift,
partly fueled by the sacrificial accomplice slumped against the nearby wall
beneath a shroud. Sweat gleams on Zaneta’s forehead beneath her parted
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