As if in slow motion, he fell forward, his hand finally releasing my bruised wrists and the knife he’d been holding falling to the ground. In a panic, I shoved him off of me, rolling to the side and wiping my face off, feeling as if his sticky gore covered every inch of me. My shaky limbs could hardly hold me up as I got to my hands and knees, bile rising in my throat as I relived the sight of the murder over and over again, like a disk that had been scratched and couldn’t move past a certain point. “Humans have such weak stomachs,” a male voice mused behind me. I turned back around, sitting on the ground and leaning against the trash bin as I tried to pull my shirt back around my exposed chest. The smoke made it hard to see and my straining eyes couldn’t find who had spoken. “Don’t worry about covering yourself,” he drawled. “I find you weak and helpless, qualities that are hardly attractive in a mate.” “Wh-where are you?” I asked, pulling the cloth around me tighter anyway.
What do You think about Hades (The God Chronicles #3)?
