Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Swallowing, I glanced through my fingers at the man standing tall over me. “This was not a quickly planned coup.”
“No.” He nodded, unapologetic as his eyes traveled, again, to my belly. “We have been strategizing for centuries, but the urgency to enact our plan intensified the instant you went into estrous. You encouraged a large portion of our female population to give us what we have been begging for.”
Pure-born hybrid daughters—a real chance for our species' survival.
And should the hybrids’ revolution end in success, no human overlord would ever lay a hand on our precious babies again.
The price? The annihilation or enslavement of the human species from which we were made.
The male continued, “With this alteration in female cooperation and an expectation of vulnerable offspring, leadership decided collectively… to choose a king. Every general agreed. Cyderial is giving you and my future mate a new world. He is keeping his word to us all in this very moment by savaging the humans’ city.”
A tear slipped over my cheek, a show of weakness in front of a male who would exploit every advantage he might find. Still, I met his eyes, my voice steel. “Of the three of you, I like you least.”
He gave me a smirk, leaning his bulk on the counter at his back. “Boreal is as interesting as a bag of rocks, and Aegir is so old his mind is warped by all he’s survived to make it this far. I will be the one she chooses. I do not doubt it in any way.”
I had always liked rocks, and Aegir’s beauty would be something to contend with. But Murdoch was a problematic character—one who would be far more underhanded than even Cyderial.
The ground trembled again, a small object falling from a nearby shelf.
“That is more than a hovercar hitting the side of a building.” That was artillery.
Unconcerned, he crossed his arms over his chest and settled back. “There is some resistance. A group of extremists have been stockpiling for a siege. They are firing their rockets blind into the fog, shooting their guns, and killing one another while they breathe poison and gnash their teeth. In a few days, it will be over. When the last bullet is spent, we will collect those humans willing to kneel to their new king and queen.”
I was going to be sick. “Don’t.”
Cutting me a sardonic glance, Murdoch smirked as he always did. “He knew you would be shocked, angry even. Take this time to cool your thoughts so you can support a mate who is risking his life so your daughter will be born free.”
My stomach roiled. One dry heave and the man grabbed a container off the counter, holding it under my head right in time. It wasn’t much, but the vomit burned like fire coming up.
As if my shame was being released into that bucket.
My terror at the thought of losing Cyderial.
Until I was panting, empty, and limp enough for a stranger to maneuver. Murdoch took away the bucket, wetting a towel in the sink and rushing back to press it to my face—fawning over me almost as ridiculously as Cyderial would.
As he smoothed back my hair and blotted away the sweat, all I felt was rage at my mate for making such a choice without discussing it with me. I grieved for the innocents—human and hybrid—who were dying while I was safe near my nest. But mostly, I knew relief for my child.
Cyderial would triumph. There was no question of it.
Our daughter would not have to suffer in an academy where humans created a curriculum that meant little fingers would be broken, little spirits distorted, and sacrifice demanded. She would be safe.
I knew she would, because Cyderial promised me.
But what of the other children? The ones who had already been tortured? Were they safe? Did they have a Murdock fawning over them and explaining why their world had fallen into chaos and the ground shook?
Doubtful. There was no rapport between recruits and teachers, no trust the little ones had for adults. The children would not ask questions for fear of punishment. The adults would most likely not offer information.
Yet, on many levels, I was still one of them, even if Cyderial forced me into an instructor’s uniform.
Catching my breath, stomach settling into a churning ache I could manage, I let him know I was not so small as he might think. “I am to be your queen, hmm?”
“You will adjust to the role.” Suspicion led him to narrow his eyes.
Oh, I would wield it, brandish it like a weapon to cheat on every possible test. And I would do so, because now that I had been made queen, I would never, ever be allowed to step into the fog. Cyderial attained his dearest wish. Every last hybrid in the city would prevent my freedom at all costs.