1
A masked man broke in through my bedroom window at 2am.
In the haze of dusk, I sprung up to sit in my bed. With hair plastered over my face, I looked back at my guest who had brought with him a hunting knife instead of peach tarts or loose-leaf green tea, as most guests usually bring to the manor when visiting.
I knew I should be frightened. However, I wasn't very good at being frightened.
The masked man pulled down the black material that covered the lower half of his face, tucking it under his neck. Through the shadows, his lips cracked into a grin. “Hey.”
Struggling through the web of sleep, I smiled tightly. “Hello there.”
“Quiet, Princess,” he said, his voice deeper than the ocean’s floor. “Keep that mouth closed.”
I opened my mouth, if only to be difficult as I did not appreciate his discourtesy. “Oh lovely, you’ve killed at least one of my guards.”
His knife glinted in the diluted light. Long and sharper than evil. Along the edge of the knife, blood dripped, giving my antique rug freckles.
I frowned.
This was unfortunate. Not for me. For him.
There were fifty guards on my family’s estate all who enjoyed using their batons and Uandra was easy—no, ecstatic—on the death penalty. I did notknow why Soulless continued to slog through the brush that circled the property, hike the gate with barbed wire and then divert the security cameras and guard.
Surely these people had better things to do besides killing political families who were trying to save Uandra’s people?
The man crept closer to me with his knife.
It seemed not.
My heart bashed into an uneven rhythm. I ignored it, inspecting my guest.
Tall and wide shouldered, he sculpted into an athletic build. Donning dark jeans, fingerless gloves, a leather jacket creased from time, and a black hood pulled over his head like the Grim Reaper. I blinked twice as fast at what concealed his eyes. He wore a pair of red heart-shaped sunglasses.
A tickle climbed up my inner thighs.
Moving like a stalking wolf, my heart-shaped-sunglasses-wearing man blended into the shadows as if he had been made from them, his heart-shaped eyes pointed on me. Mapping. He looked me over as if I were his next feast, deciding where to bite first.
My alarm bracelet sat idly on the bedside table. All I had to do was press the button and security bells would be singing their chorus.
However, this man was too close. By the time I lunged and pressed the button, he would charge just as easily with his knife.
I held a useless pillow in front of me and twiddled my hand down to my thigh. “Are you planning on killing me?” I asked. “I have an important Pilates class tomorrow. Can we reschedule for tomorrow night?”
Silver moonlight made the rims on his glasses shine. “No, Princess. We’re doing this tonight.”
This man was most certainly Soulless; a wicked human, corrupt with chaos that would never know the gift of love. No good and decent person would kill guards and break into people’s bedrooms at 2am and ruin perfectly beautiful antique rugs.
My heart thrashed under my ribcage, a horrible thumping, as if the organ was trying to pry itself out of its bone impound. I ignored it and summoned my courage.
It was a very inconvenient time to be afraid.
I was delighted my bedroom was crisply clean and no embarrassment showed in strewn clothes or littered cups as the Soulless man paraded around, keeping his knife pointed at me, running his fingers over the photos of my friends and smelling my favourite perfume.
“Hm.” He tapped his fingers over my bookshelf. I doubted he was here for books.
Whilst he was busy perusing Jane Austen and Stephanie Myer, I reached over to grab my alarm bracelet, but then a dagger flew past my wrist and stuck into the wall as a warning.
Hairs pricked up along the arm I had almost lost. I pursed my lips; he was ready to throw another.
