A Curse of Blood & Stone – Fate & Flame Read Online K.A. Tucker

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
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Gesine’s eyes flare with understanding as she takes in the two needlelike fangs that somehow gleam in the darkness.

My heart skips a few beats. I’ve only ever seen them on display once, the night I discovered what Zander is. He was making a point then, just as he’s making one now—or rather, a threat.

Would Gesine have a chance to defend herself before he sank those teeth into her neck? She would be a fool to test him. But is this the moment, out here in the vast ocean, that we see the true nature of the sorceress hidden behind the serene facade?

She dips her head. “As you wish, Your Highness. Though I may need your guidance, as you are far more familiar with your lands.”

“You seem to have navigated your way well enough so far.” His fangs have already retracted. “Now do it before we sink.”

I hold my breath in fearful anticipation, but rather than the previous gale force winds launching us forward, a small wave rolls beneath and carries us on its crest at a gentle clip, high enough to keep more water from leaking in. At this rate, it will take hours to make it back to shore, but at least we will make it.

I tremble within my drenched cloak as we glide through the darkness in brooding silence, moving farther away from old dangers.

And surely closer to new ones I can’t fathom yet.

2

Zander

I knew Romeria was hiding something from me.

I study her cloaked back and her woven hair, once a regal crown atop her head, now an unkempt mess. She seems so delicate, hunched and shivering, her damp clothes clinging to her body.

All along, she reeked of deception, and I knew. I challenged her on it, daily.

But I never imagined this. How could I?

Between her poisonous blood and these supposed caster affinities, she has the power to destroy Islor. And if she does, if she causes the death of so many innocents … it will have been my fault.

I am a king without a throne, unable to make hard decisions.

She shudders, and the thought to pull her to me, to offer warmth, loiters like a regret I can’t shake.

But I remain where I am.

3

Romeria

Dawn teases the horizon when we reach the inlet. Elisaf and Zander jump into thigh-deep water to haul the battered skiff ashore, seawater freely pouring in through a widening crack in the vessel’s side. In the approaching daylight, the missing chunks from its frame are glaring. Zander’s alarm wasn’t exaggerated. How we didn’t sink, even with Gesine’s intervention, is no small miracle.

Ahead of us, driftwood lays scattered on a sugar-white sandy beach dappled with crops of lichen-covered boulders. A dense line of trees shelters the quiet area, the branches serving as a perch for the choir of mourning doves and robins. Aside from the birds, there are no signs of life, no witnesses to report our whereabouts to Cirilea. I see why Zander insisted on this spot.

The moment the boat’s hull meets resistance, Gesine drags her limp frame over the edge, as if she can’t stand being in it for one second longer. Where her dark locks were once combed neatly off her forehead, they now hang in a drenched, clingy mess. Not that the current state of my hair—or the rest of me—is much better.

Her striking pale green eyes are red-rimmed, sickly. The power she expended to carry us here has weakened her, much like Wendeline always was after healing me. But instead of finding a place to sit and gather her strength, Gesine pulls her body upright and takes several staggered steps toward me, holding out a feeble hand. “Your Highness, allow me to help you.”

“I’m fine.” The adrenaline that has fueled me since the square is fraying, but I’ve spent years in survival mode, hungry and cold and uncomfortable. I throw my legs over the side, my sodden boots landing in the sand with a dull thud. All my clothes are wet, right down to my underthings. “And it’s Romy.” Even if I’m only her in spirit now. I don’t even have my face anymore, outside of the illusion Sofie bound to this ring.

“It is best we skip all formalities unless it benefits us to identify ourselves.” Zander rifles through the stash bag he collected during our escape from the castle.

“As you wish.” It’s the first time Gesine has spoken to him since he pulled his dagger on her and flashed his fangs.

“Also, the truth about Romeria must remain among this group. If word should get out …” He shakes his head. “No one but the four of us can know.”

“Corrin knows.” She was there when I was forced to divulge my secret in the mad dash to escape the castle. “And Wendeline too.”

“Corrin will not answer anything unless asked, and there is no reason Atticus could ever suspect what you are. As for Wendeline …” Zander’s jaw clenches. “I only hope she feels the punishment is worth keeping your secret a little longer.”



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