Read Warlord (Anathema Book 1) Online
Authors: Lana Grayson
Warlord (Anathema Book 1) (43 page)
I sighed as Brew
went silent. For as much as I loved knowing my brother was alive, the man on
the other end of the connection didn’t seem much like my brother anymore. I
hated it. Hated even revealing the secret that broke him. I hated even more
that he refused to talk about it.
“Brew, is
everything okay? With us?”
“Of course.” He
cleared his throat. “I should get going. I got some work.”
“Wait, we really
need to talk.”
“I can’t, Rose. Not
tonight.”
I didn’t care. He
had to hear it.
“I don’t blame
you.” The words escaped in a rush. “I did. For a long time. But it wasn’t your
fault. You didn’t know what was happening.”
“Email me when
you play next. Send the link. I’ll try and check it out.”
“Brew, please.”
“I’ll be on the
road a lot. Probably won’t be around much.”
“Brew—”
“Love you, Bud.”
He hung up
before I could respond. Just like always. Just like he didn’t want to hear me
say it in return. Like he didn’t deserve it. Like he wouldn’t believe it.
I threw the
phone on the bed. Thorne watched me from the hall.
“Who was that?”
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. A thin smile teased his lips. Not
a grin, I hadn’t fractured the stone just yet. But I was winning. He smirked,
and that was all the encouragement I needed.
“No one.”
“Didn’t sound
like
no one
.”
He stalked into
the room. I fell on the bed as he encroached, looming over me with the ferocity
of a champion warrior circling his prey. I welcomed his intensity now just as I
did on the stage. Lyn might have danced, teasing with hips that promised more
than my song and a chest that bounced more than my vocal range, but Thorne
never took his eyes from me.
Then again, it
was the first night Lyn allowed him back in the club, and she only permitted it
as a favor to me.
“Gotta be
careful,” Thorne warned. “You don’t know who might be listening in to your
conversations.”
“Oh?”
“Someone might
get jealous.”
I giggled. His
expression darkened.
“Someone might
want information.”
He pushed me on
the bed. A dark thrill chased over my body.
“Someone might
do whatever he can to get you to talk.”
His hand teased
the hem of my dress, pulling the silk up, up, up over my smoothed legs. The
bruising faded from the accident, and even the deeper cuts and gashes healed well.
I had more scars than Thorne had tattoos, but he never complained. He called
me
the warrior. I called him delusional.
His hand teased
under the dress. I tensed as his fingers brushed between my legs. He read me
before I spoke, before I summoned the courage to even remember what triggered
me. Thorne dropped the act and lay beside me on the bed. The panic waned. He
gathered me in his arms and kissed me.
“You’re safe,”
he said.
Though he said
it every day, every night, and every time he took me in bed, I never tired of
hearing it. I snuggled closer to his body. The darkness passed, but the heat
bundling deep inside me hadn’t. I reached for his hand and placed it on my
thigh.
“I know,” I
whispered.
“You start class
tomorrow.” The gun-metal of his eyes hadn’t softened. I didn’t think it ever
would. But instead of threatening me, it offered another layer of protection. Security
and safety, devotion and absolute adoration. “Want me to give you a ride?”
“God no.” I
flicked at the cut on his chest. “I can handle it myself. Last thing I need is
the entire club going on a run to the university.”
“You sure?
Thought all those music majors loved their bikers.”
“Who told you
that?”
His fingers
swept over me again. This time I was ready. I bit my lip. That only invited his
kiss.
“I have my
evidence,” he said.
“Pretty solid
evidence.”
“You gonna be
okay?” He asked. “College is a bit different from Pixie. Might get boring.”
I grinned. “I’ll
manage.”
He brushed a
curl from my face. I sighed, parting my lips for another kiss.
“What about all this?
Can you handle it?”
He didn’t take
his eyes from me, but I understood what he meant. His new home, the tracphone,
the brother presumed dead and the other still battling his own demons with
whatever drug he could find, the new gig at Sorceress, and my new college.
Anathema.
I nodded. “I can
handle it.”
“You sure?”
His attention
slowed between my legs. I tangled my hands against his cut and kissed him. My
hips ground against him.
“Can you handle
me?” I whispered. “After everything that happened?”
Now he grinned.
“Sweetheart, you are the only thing I want. I fucking love you.”
I pulled him
over my body and opened my legs, inviting him even closer.
“I love you
too.” I wished I could have removed my dress before he reached for his jeans,
but we’d have time later to take it slow. To leisurely explore. To learn. To
forget. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good, cause I’m
not letting you go.”
I believed him,
but he had no reason to worry.
I knew where I
belonged. I held onto his cut as everything that was Anathema, everything I
thought was dark and dangerous, deceptive and desecrated, transformed from
something to loathe into something to love. Thorne protected me, sheltered me,
and healed me.
I once feared
Anathema and Thorne.
But they were the
reasons I was alive. The only reasons I even had a life.
They gave me
courage, even with exiled brothers and an encroaching parole hearing that
threatened everyone’s safety. The scarred demon shadowed everything, but it
also protected. It gave me Thorne. It gave me a new life. It gave me hope.
And I never
wanted to leave.
The End
Note
From
Lana:
The Anathema MC’s
revolution is just beginning…
Coming Early
2015:
I betrayed my
sister.
Betrayed my
brother. The club.
I betrayed
myself.
I raced my
guilt, hid my shame, and lived by the undeserved mercy of the road.
Then I met her.
My second chance.
And I fucked it
up again.
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Acknowledgements
First off, thank you to ALL the readers out there
who are starting this journey with me. You have no idea how grateful I am to
those who purchased this book. I hope you love the story as much as I loved
writing it. Thank you!
My husband is the most important person in the world
to me—without him, I wouldn’t be able to bundle up on the couch with the laptop
and write. He’s the most supportive, most loving man in the world, and he’s
been taking care of everything while I get my writing done. Without him, I’d be
lost, hungry, and forced to mow the grass. This book simply wasn’t possible
without his encouragement.
My beta readers and writing buddies—Fiona, LC,
Kelley, Abby, Amy, and Jamie—you are my front lines. You get the crazy before
it’s filtered, and you’re amazing for it. My Romantica Crew and Kaylee, you
guys pushed me to take the leap into self-publishing, thank you!!
My neglected friends: Ashley, Brittany, Kati, and
Breann…I owe you all dinner. I know I drop off the face of the planet when I’m
in the middle of a novel, but I love you all. Same for my neglected
parents…though I really hope they didn’t read this book!
And finally, thank you to the people who are helping
behind the scenes. Rebecca Berto, thank you so much for
your beautiful cover design
.
And
Xpresso Tours
,
thank you for helping organizing my tour!
Thank
you all so much!!