Total pages in book: 219
Estimated words: 210867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 703(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 703(@300wpm)
A warm breeze rolled in through the window, playing with the strands of her hair. “I rode to Berkton as fast as I could, pushing Setti to his limits in that weather. The snow had eased off, but I knew I didn’t have long before it picked up again. When I arrived at the old manor, I…”
I really had no idea what I would have done if it had been my father there.
“Alastir was there, not the King. He’d convinced my father to remain in Atlantia because it was too much of a risk for him to be that deep in Solis. You already know that, but the relief I felt? I could’ve fallen to my knees. Alastir…he was a traitorous bastard at the end, and fuck him, but to this day, I’m glad he came.” I lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the top.
“I was able to convince him that I had things handled and that the roads were too bad for his group to travel.” I glanced at the closed doors. “Emil helped there, being his ridiculous self. And Alastir? He didn’t push me. Wouldn’t. Honestly? I think the delay was a relief to him. You see, he didn’t know who you really were then. All he knew was that he was about to go and do something I’m not sure he wanted to do—something he’d assured my father he would do.”
I mulled that over, reconciling the Alastir I had grown up with, with the one who had killed. Who had ultimately betrayed us. “I used to think it was because he was a good—sometimes irritating—man. Now, I realize he just didn’t want more innocent blood on his hands. But that was before he saw who you were.”
My smile faded. “If my father had been there? He would’ve ridden to New Haven anyway, and I don’t know if I would’ve been able to change his mind,” I admitted in the quiet. “But I do know I would not have allowed him to hurt you.”
Turning her hand, I kissed the golden imprint. “I would’ve gotten people banished. Others killed. I would’ve split the kingdom.” The truth tasted like ash on my tongue. “I would’ve killed him,” I whispered. “Honest to gods, even then, before I could really understand what I felt for you—that you were my soul—I would’ve killed him.”
I lowered her hand. “But that didn’t happen. I got lucky there, but the luck didn’t last.” I soaked in the sight of the pink slowly returning to her cheeks, even as the image of her bloodless body being handed to me filled my mind, a memory I wouldn’t forget.
The breath I took burned a little. “The fear I felt when word of your attack reached me on the way back to the keep? I should’ve known then. Kieran did.” I threaded my fingers through hers. “More so than before. He saw my panic, what I was willing to do to save you. Anyone else? Kieran would’ve destroyed them for stabbing me. But you? Don’t get me wrong. There was a moment when instinct took over. You hurt me. That initial response is beyond his control. But me stopping him wasn’t the reason he didn’t give in to it. He knew. That was why he let you live.” I squeezed her hand. “He already knew that I was in love with you.”
THE DARK ONE
The howling.
About an hour into our return trip to Haven Keep, the wolven’s sharp, high-pitched yips and keening, powerful howls whipped the woods between Berkton Manor and New Haven into a frenzy. Perched high above us in the pines, birds took flight, scattering into the air. Small creatures scurried under bushes and boulders. From the deeper, darker parts of the forest, the Craven answered with wails.
I’d heard the wolven’s alarm call a hundred times in my life, but this raised every hair on my body and caused the nape of my neck to prickle.
Because I knew.
I didn’t know how. It made no sense for me to know, but every fiber of my being knew that something had happened to Poppy.
My head snapped to Kieran. “Go.”
He didn’t hesitate. He slowed his horse and jumped off, shifting into his wolven form mid-run. He was nothing more than a fawn-hued blur as I caught the reins of his horse. Pitching forward on Setti, I rode hard through the maze of pines as the flurries picked up, coming down faster and harder.
Wind stung my cheeks as we leapt over boulders and fallen trees, my heart pumping. I didn’t feel the icy dampness or the jarring landings as Setti’s hooves kicked up snow and soil. The horses’ panting breaths joined mine. The relief that it had been Alastir who’d come instead of my father was long gone as I pushed Setti and the other steed hard. Now, I felt only mounting dread.