Touch of a Ruthless Demon for free download on epub format book through a direct link on our site already has the most recent updates The book was made available by A.M. Mason Release on February 13, 2023, under the Fantasy genre You can now free download the most recent books and include all books on ebookszone website.
ebook details:
| Book Name: | Touch of a Ruthless Demon |
| Languages: | English |
| Format: | epub |
| Pages: | 288 |
| File Size: | 321KB |
Story Line:
I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I blamed him anyway.
Rage simmered just under my skin, making me tighten my grip on my blade. Sweat coated my back, and blood dripped down my arm where he had landed a lucky shot. I planned my next attack, looking for my opportunity to inflict as much pain as possible. That was the only time I got to make him pay.
“You don’t have to do this,” Murmur said, gasping for breath, tossing his own blade back and forth between his hands. “We can stop whenever you like. “I’m aware,” I said. Anger clouded my vision. All I could see was him.
He was my lover’s best friend and cousin, someone I genuinely liked and considered a friend, but he let her leave. My best friend was gone because of this cocky son of a bitch. If you say so.” He sank into a fighting stance and attacked.
I wasn’t fast enough to block every hit, but I could block most of them, and that was good enough. He left a few more scratches on my arms. I barely felt them. What were a few superficial scratches compared to losing Sarah?
He wasn’t fighting; he was toying with me. I clenched my jaw and focused. I landed a solid hit with my fist under his ribs, making him double over a bit. He backed up to take a few breaths. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that.
I lunged for him again with my dagger, knowing he would roll to the side and strike. I dropped my blade with my right hand and spun around, catching it with my left, before feeling it sink into his chest. The move gave the blade no momentum. It had no actual force behind it, but I didn’t need it to.
I had held the blade just under his ribs so the weight of his body pushed into the sharp point. All I had to do was hold it still while he fell on it. I dropped his body to the floor as he rolled to his back, my dagger, a Valentine’s gift from his cousin, stuck through him.
Blood pooled at the hilt, staining his bright-white shirt. I pulled the blade from his chest and wiped it on his shoulder before sliding it into the scabbard strapped to my thigh. I waited for feelings of remorse or regret to come. They never did. Neither did
