Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3 Read Online Free PDF

Mason’s head.
    Askara wasn’t agreeing with Mason. He was half human, but his father’s Evanti genes trumped his mother’s human ones. That was how it worked. It was the only reason their race had survived the near-extinction of its females. Whatever they bred to, their offspring came out winged. This one had also come out a prude.
    Shifting with a slight wince, Dillon asked, “Did they give you the talk about finding a good female and settling down before you came out here?”
    Mason coughed into his fist. “This is not about me.”
    Dillon snorted. “That’s a yes.” Hypocritical as it sounded, maybe Mason’s parents wanted a nice little demoness for their nice little demon son. His amusement vanished. He’d dealt with purists all his life, and the Butlers hadn’t struck him as such, but who knew what they did behind closed doors?
    Other than coddle their only son and cheer his every step as if it were his first.
    “I was out of line.” Mason veered right onto the high road. His momma would be proud. Clearly he thought that would end this, but Dillon was irked. “I shouldn’t have called you that.”
    “What?” Dillon’s leg trembled after bearing his weight for too long. “A prick?”
    Dark splotches appeared in Mason’s cheeks. “Yes, I should have—”
    “Asked for my preference?” Fuck the high road. Dillon was enjoying himself. “What do you call yours?” If he’d remembered how, he would have smiled as the tips of Mason’s ears glowed.
    Scratching his scalp, Mason said, “I didn’t mean—”
    Feeling supremely helpful, Dillon supplied, “Dick? Cock?”
    “Stop it,” Mason hissed. “Someone might hear you.”
    “So what if they do? This isn’t Earth. This is Askara. There’s no momma here waiting with milk and cookies after a hard day at the hardware store. No momma to check your sheets or under your bed for dirty magazines.” He bypassed another chance to stop when the red in Mason’s cheeks turned a furious purple. “There’s nothing here but sweat, sand and misery.” And then there was pain. He paused a moment, long enough he wondered. “Why did you come here?”
    Inhaling through his teeth, Mason said, “Drop it.”
    Maybe Dillon was still pissed about being replaced or jealous Harper was finding his place just as Dillon was losing his. Mason presented a safe target. No matter how badly Dillon fucked up, Mason would shrug it off and make like it never happened. Maybe this time Dillon didn’t want to be forgiven. Maybe he wanted someone else to hurt, but something made him cross a line he never should have skirted. “Why? Afraid someone will notice you’re still chugging milk from the tap?”
    Mason’s fingers balled at his side. His jaw set.
    He already looked sorry and he hadn’t even done anything yet.
    Dillon saw the punch launch, but he didn’t sidestep it. He’d pushed too hard and he deserved what he had coming, craved that edge of violence that had defined so much of his life. It wasn’t Mason’s fault Dillon was fucked up. Guys like him were the reason Harper did what he did and why Dillon helped where he could. Mason was healthy. He was normal, whatever that meant. Slavery had been an abstract concept for him until recently, and already exposure to Askara had consumed the easy smile he once wore, the thick drawl of a Southern gentleman he’d cultivated.
    Knuckles met nose and cartilage broke. Blood poured down Dillon’s chin, and the force of Mason’s right hook made Dillon’s bad leg wobble and give out. He grunted when his ass hit the sand.
    Flexing his fingers, Mason winced. “You’re my friend. Probably the best one I’ve got.” He pointed. “But if you ever talk about my momma like that again, you will regret it.”
    A sudden bark of laughter had Dillon searching for the source.
    For a minute, Mason only stared down at him. “I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh.” With a shake of his head, he cracked a slight grin. “I