Total pages in book: 239
Estimated words: 224443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 898(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 898(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“Impossible,” Saion breathed, and I’d never seen the god so unsettled.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s impossible.”
“What?” I forced out around the throbbing ache. “What is impossible?”
“What I’m thinking is impossible, but I think I know what might help,” Nyktos said and then turned to the gods. All it took was for him to send them one look, and they left the chamber. “Why don’t you lay down? I’ll be back shortly.”
For once, I didn’t argue with him. I nodded. He started for the door and then stopped. “There will be a guard outside this chamber,” he said, his head lowered slightly. “You’ll be safe.”
Nyktos slipped from the room before I could say anything, and with how badly my head ached, I couldn’t even read into that or what he’d thought was impossible. Remembering where my robe was, I went to the wardrobe and managed to slip it on. On the way back to the bed, I did stop to pick up the broken wooden leg. There was blood on the end of it, and a guard stationed outside or not, I wasn’t taking any chances.
I climbed into bed, all but burying my face in the mound of pillows. I wasn’t alone for long. Nektas arrived shortly after the Primal had left. He didn’t say a word, and my head hammered too much to be bothered by his silence.
The draken was currently out on the balcony, having left the door half-open. Every so often, when I had my eyes open, I saw him pass in front of the door as if he were checking on me.
It wasn’t all that long before he entered the chamber and announced as he had before that Nyktos was arriving.
“Can you sense him?” I asked, half of my face still planted in the pillows. Nektas nodded and stopped in the middle of the room. “Is it…the bond?”
The question earned me another nod.
“Do you like being bonded to a Primal?”
He nodded once more. “For most of us, it is a choice.” Nektas looked at me then, his gaze unblinking. “We undertake the bond of our own free will, and because of that, we see it as an honor. As does the Primal.”
For most of us? “Did the bond transfer from his father to him?”
“No. It doesn’t work that way. When his father died, it severed the bond. Those who are bonded to Nyktos have done so by choice.”
“And the ones who don’t fall into the most of us category?” I asked, wincing as the throbbing in my head told me to be quiet.
Nektas didn’t answer right away. “The bond can be forced, as nearly all things can. Some draken aren’t given that choice.”
“What…what about the draken last night? The crimson-colored one?”
“I do not know if he chose the bond or not, but I do know that Kolis does not give a choice.”
The door opened before I could ask how Kolis or any Primal could force a bond. Nyktos stalked in, carrying a large tankard. His gaze immediately landed on me and didn’t stray. “Thank you,” he said to the draken. And then to me he said, “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“She lies,” Nektas advised.
“How do you know?” I muttered.
“Draken have an acute sense of smell.” Nyktos sat beside me. “Along with sight and hearing.”
“Pain has a smell?”
“Everything has a scent,” Nektas answered as I eyed him wryly. “Every person has a unique scent.”
“What do I smell like?” I asked.
“You smell of…” He inhaled deeply as my lip curled. “You smell of death.”
I stared at him from my pile of pillows, mouth hanging open. “That was rude.”
Nyktos cleared his throat as he lowered his chin. “He may be speaking of me.”
“I am,” the draken confirmed.
I glanced at Nyktos and then realized what he meant. Warmth crept up my throat. “I did bathe—”
“That will not wash away such a scent,” Nektas countered.
I stared at them. “Well, that’s...even more rude to point out.”
Nektas tilted his head, and his nostrils flared when he inhaled once more. “You also smell of—”
“You can stop now,” I told him. “I changed my mind. I don’t need to know.”
He looked a bit disappointed.
“I brought you something to drink that I think might help with the headache,” Nyktos said. “It doesn’t taste the greatest, but it works.”
Pushing myself up, I reached for the tankard. “Is it some kind of tea?” I asked, curling my fingers around the warm cup. “Sir Holland made me some when I had a headache this bad before.”
“It is a tea, but I doubt it’s the same,” Nyktos answered. “This should bring you relief.”
“His tea made the headache go away.” I sniffed the dark liquid. “Smells the same.” I took a sip, recognizing the sweet and earthy, minty flavor. “Tastes the same. Chasteberry? Peppermint? And other herbs I can’t remember? And let me guess, I need to drink all of this while it’s still warm?”