Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Except… it doesn’t help right now. All I can think about is how I’m alone in this huge house… with him. Kaiser. A man I just met. A man I’m supposed to marry and remain married to until death do us part.
Fucking what?
He’s been following me. For months! I thought I was so clever, confronting him in the poison garden and again in the diner. Now I feel uneasy. What does he already know about me? What has he seen?
Did he know this was coming?
He seems to be looking forward to the marriage. Fuck my life. That means I’ll have to kill him.
But if I kill him, it probably won’t be the end of it. Fraternitas has my father. Killing one of them won’t do any good. They’d probably just assign someone else to marry me. And make me, or my father, pay a blood debt.
Maybe I can make it look like an accident.
That means not activating the poison gas in the sprinkler system. I need to figure out if my father disabled it, anyway.
The thought of my father makes my stomach hurt all over again. Why would Papa hand me over to a bunch of thugs? Do they have something over him?
I need answers.
My head is spinning. I turn off the Wagner because it’s too intense for me right now, so I stand in the silence and dig my hands in the soil, trying to focus on my chores. Usually, the greenhouse relaxes me, but all I can think about is Kaiser. How to kill him. How to outmaneuver him. How to control him.
“Breathe,” he calls, and I almost drop the sapling I’m repotting.
He’s snuck up on me. Of course, the bastard followed me. He moves too quietly. Like a panther. Sleek coiled muscle. Except he also looks like he’s taken something to beef up those muscles. Nothing natural.
“Stop telling me what to do.”
He looks me up and down. I’m still in the schoolgirl outfit. Does he think I’m cute? He’s been handsy, and there’s definitely a charge of attraction between us. But I seem to be more affected than him. He’s older and more experienced, dammit.
I need a plan. But I can’t think. I can only glower at my new fiancé.
“You’re not welcome here.”
He says nothing as he paces between the rows of plants, studying them. He has no idea what he’s looking at.
In the shaded space under the racks, I’ve set up some woodchip beds for mushroom colonies. He takes particular interest in one bright orange cluster.
“Careful,” I call. “Those are poisonous.”
He backs away, and I roll my eyes. Am I really betrothed to a man who can’t tell the difference between a false chanterelle and a real one?
I finish planting the manchineel sapling. “You’re so beautiful,” I croon to it. “You’re doing so well. You’re going to grow big and produce some lovely poison apples for me, yes, you are.”
“Poison apples?” My intended is right behind me. I glare at him. I’m not ashamed to be caught talking to my plants, but I don’t want him here, killing the vibe. If he insults my babies, I’ll put poison ivy in his underwear.
Unfortunately, he’s standing in a patch of sunlight, and his blond hair blazes like a crown. It’s down around his shoulders, looking silky and a little curly from the humidity.
He looks like a work of art, dammit.
“This is the most poisonous tree in the world. Every part of it will kill you. If you try to kill it with fire, the smoke will destroy your eyes. Once it’s grown, I’m going to see if I can use the fruit to make jam. For Winter Solstice.” I give him a sappy smile. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”
No reaction. He might as well be a statue. An obnoxiously well-sculpted statue.
Ugh. “Just assume everything in here will kill you,” I tell him in a monotone voice. “It’ll save time.”
“Why would you even want to plant something so deadly?” He’s moved closer to the sapling. I just told him it would kill him, and here he is, looking even more enthralled.
I understand the feeling.
I sidle sideways, keeping the tree between us. I study him through the spindly branches. “You’re like everyone,” I scoff. “You want the power these plants give you. You want to use them, but you don’t respect them. You want control of the poison inside them, but deep down, you know you can never own them. At any point, they can be used against you. It drives you crazy.” I brush my hand over the leaves, caressing them. Inviting him to do the same.
He doesn’t make a move to touch the tree. Or me. He’s too smart for that.
But I didn’t really think that poisoning him would be that easy.
“You crave the danger. The high it gives you. And if you’d only take a moment and the trouble to appreciate the beauty in front of you…” I brush my lips over the leaves, then take a branch and lick the sap. My skin begins to burn, but it quickly fades to a pleasant tingle. “You could know the sweet taste of oblivion.”