Free The Invisible Ring by Anne Bishop

tired of using the whores in the Red Moon house. He wanted a woman of his own, one who wouldn’t be spreading her legs for anyone but him, one he could breed every few years to give him the offspring he wanted. His family bloodlines were good, his Sapphire Jewels were impressive enough, and his promotion to Master of the Guard guaranteed he’d be able to pick almost any witch he pleased.
    Now all his plans, all his dreams might end in this stinking bedchamber because an aristo bitch couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Anger stirred in him as he stared at her pleading eyes, as he listened to the muffled sounds she kept making.
    Stupid bitch. It was her own fault she was here. It was her fault he was here. Always mouthing off as if that would change the reality of living in Hayll, as if anyone would think she could rival Dorothea. Even if she actually had the strength to rule, would she really be any different than the others? No matter what she said, she’d soon be snap--ping her fingers and expecting the males to dance to her tune.
    That’s the way it was among the Blood now—a game of predator and prey, played out on a constantly shifting landscape of power: who wore the darkest Jewels, who had the most social prestige, who controlled the strongest males, who was the most skilled in Craft, who was the most dangerous.
    Predator and prey.
    Krelis stripped off his clothes and climbed onto the bed.
    The weaker became prey. It was as simple as that.
    His fear of failure churned inside him until it became a hot, throbbing anger. Since he couldn’t turn that anger on the witch who frightened him, he unleashed it on the one who feared him.
    And discovered why men enjoyed breaking witches so much.

    Chapter Seven

    “It’s my turn to sit in the wagon,” Tomas said angrily, refusing to yield when Eryk stepped in front of him.
    “You’re just a half-Blood,” the older boy said, giving Tomas a shove. “You’re just a stupid slave who has to do what he’s told.”
    “So are you!” Tomas returned the shove with interest.
    “Am not!” Another shove.
    Swiping his rain-soaked hair out of his eyes, Jared swore under his breath as he turned around and slogged through the mud, hoping he’d reach the boys before they ended up bloodying each other’s noses—or worse, since Eryk was strong enough to wear a Yellow Jewel and Tomas didn’t have any way to protect himself. Hell’s fire, didn’t they have enough problems without having to deal with childish squabbles?
    The savage muttering behind him told him that Brock and Randolf had also turned back. Good. There was nothing like annoyed adult males to shrivel a boy’s temper.
    Out of the corner of his eye, Jared noticed Blaed and Thayne scrambling to reach the horses pulling the pedlar’s wagon before the shoving match spooked them.
    “You don’t have any rank,” Eryk shouted. “You don’t count for anything! My family’s aristo. My family’s important. You’re just a bastard some landen bitch had because a Warlord’s dangle got stiff. You don’t deserve to sit in the wagon. You don’t deserve to eat up our food. You don’t deserve to live .”
    Jared felt the emotional blows as if they had been directed at him. He was so intent on reaching the boys and letting that little prick-ass feel the lash of his temper, he didn’t see the Gray Lady until her hand connected with the back of Eryk’s head hard enough to make the boy stagger. The waves of fury coming from her hit the rest of them hard enough to make them freeze.
    “How dare you?” she screamed at the cringing boy. “He has every right to his share of the supplies. He has every right to be treated with courtesy. He has every right to live, you selfish little prick!”
    With a shriek of rage that had fear skittering up every male spine, she lunged at Eryk.
    Jared lunged at her.
    Their bodies hit with a thud. While he struggled to keep his footing in the slippery mud, she struggled to break free and reach the focus of her anger. They slid around in an ugly,