Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“Thank you, Hadriel.” I hugged him tightly. “For everything.”
He handed over the cups and then held onto my upper arms, holding my gaze. “You were never meant to be in a cage, even one that hands out orgasms like they’re silver nickels.” He squeezed my arms. “Take care of yourself, my darling. Be careful. From the back of the tent, aim southwest for a half mile. Then watch out for yourself. The town will be beyond.”
“Wh-what?” I asked stupidly.
“Please leave him alive. Remember what I said? Our kingdom needs him.”
“I . . .” I licked my lips, my heart racing at his intuitiveness. “I’m just going to bed.”
“Aurelia, just so you know, he doesn’t want this duty, anymore. He’s been leaving a hole in his sentries every night. It leads directly to your tent. Whether he means to or if his wolf is somehow hiding that fact from him, there has always been a way out for you, and a way in for danger. He wants to let you run free, and he will face the danger head-on to give you that opportunity. He’s not a bad man—exactly the opposite, actually—he’s just in a bad situation. Visit one of the drug riddled neighborhoods and see for yourself. There is a reason we’re here, and Granny’s clues all point at you. If you could shift the blame where it belonged, none of us would be in this mess.”
He hugged me again and kissed my cheek and I could hardly speak after what I’d heard. Weston had been leaving me a way out? Even if subconsciously, it meant there was a part of him that did care what happened to me. Part of him that was pushing back against duty, against everything he thought he stood for, to see me safe. I didn’t know how to feel, or what to say.
That Hadriel had known all this time, only telling me when he intuited I was finally ready to leave . . . It was all too much.
“How did you know?” I finally asked, my voice barely a whisper.
His grin was sly. “I guarded the dragon queen, which really just amounted to flying by the seat of my pants as she did what she pleased. I recognize danger, and I recognize a person hellbent on surviving. With you, it was only a matter of time.”
“Yet you didn’t say anything.”
“Of course I didn’t say anything,” he said, scandalized. “I don’t snitch. Besides, I’ve tried a few of your products over the last few days. You’re exactly right—they’re tame. I mean, they’re fun, don’t get me wrong. Last night I had a great time wandering through the trees. Apparently one of the sentries got a lot of entertainment watching me. It was like a really cool dreamscape. Anyway, some of that stuff seems almost medicinal. Whatever is sold in the market has been altered. It’s giving you a bad name, as I said.” He lifted his eyebrows. “If I were you, I’d be pissed.”
“How’d you get more of my product?”
He huffed. “I don’t help out simply because I’m a nice guy. You think you’re the only one with quick hands?”
I chuckled, my eyes tearing up. “I’m going to miss you.”
“This isn’t forever, Finley—sorry, Aurelia. How embarrassing. I just see so much of her in you. In your wilder parts, I mean. You’re a lot more balanced than a dragon. It’s been a real pleasure. I hardly ever have to be on my toes.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“Trust me, darling, it is. Now run along. Your alpha went without dinner tonight. If I’m not mistaken, he’s hating himself for how he’s treated you. It won’t be hard to make up with him.” He tilted his head at me. “Remember, don’t kill him. I’m counting on you.”
I was intensely curious to meet a dragon. They sounded crazy.
I paused in a little corner of shadow near the tent, setting things down and pouring the wine. Weston’s glass got an extra ingredient, and I left the bottle where it lay. Someone could grab it in the morning.
He sat where he had the last few nights, journal open as usual, no pencil to take notes this time. He was still reading, engrossed, his legs crossed and clothes rumpled.
“Hey,” I said, putting the cups down so I could close the tent flap. It was time to make the apology that I didn’t feel.
He shut the journal and glanced up, his gaze open and eyes haunted. “Hey,” he replied, holding out the journal.
Confused, I picked up the wine glasses, handing him his before taking the journal. I took a sip of mine before sitting down next to him.
“Is this a terrible memory? I’m really not in the mood for one of those.”
“It’s the last memory you wrote. You thought I was the product of your imagination. An effect of a drug.”