Rhett And Link Book Novels & Stories

Rhett goes completely still. “Poisoned?” he repeats, deadly calm. “Yes,” the healer confirms. “A slow-acting compound. Designed to weaken rather than kill outright.” Slow. Deliberate. Calculated. My mind flashes back to that bitter taste on my tongue. To Elara’s calm smile. To the way she watched me. Rhett’s power surges, the air cracking faintly with it when he perks up to his feet, glaring at the space between us. Making the air now filled with tension I never imagined coming.

It was the kind of weight you only feel when you’re holding a body. Rhett was silent beside her, his eyes locked on the ledger as though it were a predator that might spring if either of them breathed too loud. His hands stayed at his sides, but there was a readiness in him, a tension like he was waiting for the snap of a tripwire. “You think this is Weston’s?” she asked. “I think it’s older,” Rhett murmured, his voice careful in the still air. “And worse.” She hesitated, her fingers hovering above the cover before finally pulling it open. The smell rose immediately—salt, copper, and something faintly medicinal, like chloroform abandoned too long in the sun.

I might be out of here and in there by the new year. I put my book down and grab a collar and cuffs before making my way through the bathroom to Rhett’s room. His back is to me, with his ass in the air and nothing but boxers on while headphones cover his ears and he sings along to Gossip by Maneskin and Tom Morello. His voice is very nice, but I’m not here to listen to him sing, though it gives me ideas. His nose is in a book and his feet are wiggling to the beat. It’s cute, but I don’t want cute right now. I want obedient.

The white of the bandage covering the bite mark on his arm was stark against the colorful patterns of his tattoos. Aislen heard the hammering begin from the room near the staircase – Cameron and Talen fixing chains to the wall ready to secure Rhett. “If I find out that Leighton’s using the baby batter for something disgusting, I’m not going to be happy,” Rhett turned suddenly, resting his hips on the desk, and beginning to release the button holding his jeans closed. “I’m all for come-kinks, when they’re between me and my mates.” “Rhett,” she walked over to him and set the jar onto the tabletop before stroking her fingers through his hair and resting the palms of her hands on his cheeks, mak

The fence rattled and shook, making far more noise that he liked, and the bottom edge was ragged, catching in his fur, and burying through it to his skin. Rhett contained the urge to yelp as he wriggled through to the other side, gouging fur and flesh out on the sharp metal, and he smelled the metallic richness of his own blood warm on the air as he fought free. The Van Helsings, deep in the noise of their rescue efforts, had not overheard his small fight with the chain-link.