Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Theodor wanted to throw something else—that Mozraath would simply wave his hand and fix it with a spell—but what would be the point? It was over. It was all over. Boraleashe was going home to die. The Snow Moon was approaching fast, and it was coming for Boraleashe’s healed soul… or for atonement.
That bastard chose the latter. Boraleashe had chosen death over him.
“Gods damn him to hell!” Theodor shouted, dropping to his knees. What was he going to do with all of this hurt and rejection? He feared he would not survive.
“Friend,” Mozraath coaxed. “I can take that pain away for you, as quickly as it came. You know that. I can make you forget all about Boraleashe with a spell that’s irreversible. It’ll be like he never existed, and you’ll never have to feel this agony again.”
When Boraleashe was dead… the pain in Theodor’s heart would intensify to the tenth power. He gazed up at Mozraath.
Fuck!
What other option did he have?
Boraleashe
The Realm of Winter
Tir an Amárach ~ The Arctic World
In all of his two thousand and fifty years of age, Boraleashe had never been more enthusiastic to see his kingdom. He’d returned home countless times, but this time felt different. Peaceful. The cool air was the first feeling he welcomed, making his way toward the Rownia Reef that led to his home. His stallion, Frostreign, trotted across the deep blanket of undisturbed snow, waving his long white mane with joy.
During his travels to his realm, Boraleashe had a lot of time to reflect on his decision to leave the Realm of Autumn, to leave Theodor. It’d been the second hardest, most painful decision he’d ever made. But it was for the best. He would never be enough to satisfy a titan as extraordinary—as young and virile—as the king of Fhomhair, and Boraleashe had made his peace with that. The entire journey home, he’d accepted his fate and prayed to the gods for a peaceful journey to the afterlife.
He had his own heiresses to inherit Amárach, and he was ready to make the transition to hand over his territory. No one, especially his people, would be pleased he’d given up so quickly, but they didn’t understand. A titan only had his heart and his pride, and with one of those already damaged beyond repair, it left his Boraleashe’s dignity.
He’d lost a fraction of that in Theodor’s chambers when he’d found that same suitor who’d gifted him flowers in front of the entire court, half naked and about to climb into his bed. Theodor claimed he was turning him down, but would he always turn him down? And what of the thousands of others vying for a mere smile from the new king before they threw themselves at him?
Boraleashe refused to be the titan known as the old fool who thought himself worthy of a king blessed by the gods. If he dared marry Theodor, he’d be suspicious anytime he returned home, fearing there’d be another in his bed. Boraleashe admitted he’d been desperate and full of hope when he’d arrived in Fhomhair, but things had not gone as he’d hoped. So, instead of begging, he returned home with what little dignity he had left.
Boraleashe didn’t smile at the gleaming iron gates to his land when they opened upon his arrival. It wasn’t happiness in his spirit, but his soul felt lighter, calmer. He was home. There was no one in sight for miles; there weren’t hundreds of people lining the pathway welcoming him back as they did Notalus and his husband. No one threw flowers—or, in his case, snowballs—at his feet in celebration of their lord’s return. It wasn’t because Boraleashe’s people refused to; it was because he didn’t allow them to anymore. He wasn’t worthy of their praise. They lived in treacherous conditions… because of him.
He scanned the vast territory and the beauty of the landscape in a different way. He gazed on with more appreciation and gratitude than ever before, knowing he would only have a couple more days to enjoy it. It was still early in the day, but the skies were dark and gloomy, the sun shrouded by dense clouds that acted as blockades. An impenetrable force field. Boraleashe had exhausted himself for many years trying to break it and revive Amárach, but he wasn’t strong enough… not by himself.
Boraleashe was without his court since he’d flown ahead of them while they traveled across the territories on horseback. He’d wanted the time alone to think, to come to terms with his decision… and to stew in privacy over his losses.
Boraleashe had lived a long, mostly content life until he’d begun to ignore his heart. It was a thousand years of him defying love that the curse was then placed upon him.
He’d grown up in the Arctic World when it was at its most prosperous, born into a prestigious lineage of titans that had the humbleness of commoners. His loving mother and father governed their realm with civility and kindness.