Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
What is happen—
“Father.” Theodor pounded on his door before flooding inside his quarters with the palace guards. “I felt something on the wind. Did you feel it too?”
Notalus was still gazing out the window at the calm clouds above him… there was no storm, no threats. What was the panic he was suddenly feeling? Was it one of his brothers needing his help? No. Couldn’t be.
‘Notalus. Help me.’
Then Notalus heard his name cried on his wind, making him clutch the center of his chest, where he’d placed the mortal, Dustin Constus Hill, that had imprinted on his soul. Notalus had attempted to stay away from the handsome man who resided in the earthly realm, knowing it would only lead to heartache, but Notalus couldn’t stop himself from visiting the shifter in his dreams. Love came fast for titans when their souls were touched.
“Father… what is it?”
Notalus felt the plea all the way to his core so deeply that it made dread swarm in the pit of his gut. Dustin’s voice was so far away, but he could hear it—he recognized it and held on to it like his life depended on it. The air surrounding him was saturated with fear and panic, causing unease to stir in his gut. He didn’t want his son to see him frightened, but already Notalus was fearing he’d heard the cry too late. With a quick wave of his hand, Notalus summoned enough wind to dress in his battle gear and clasp his robe around his shoulders.
“I can hear someone calling for you on your wind. It has to be an immortal, or else we couldn’t hear it. And sounds like it could be trouble. I’m coming with you.” Theodor mimicked his moves, preparing to dress within the blink of an eye, but Notalus stopped him.
He would never put his only heir in danger. “I have to answer this call alone, son. I need to return to Earth. Stay here with our people, comfort them if need be.”
“When will you return?” Theodor asked, but Notalus didn’t have the time to answer his son’s questions.
Notalus ran toward his balcony as his son grabbed his swords off the wall and tossed them toward him. He caught them mid-stride as he leapt over the brass railing, summoning as much air as he could and landing on his stallion Joldryn’s back.
“Find the one who whispers my name,” he commanded as his war companion took off into the dark blue morning clouds.
Notalus gripped Joldryn’s reins in one hand and one of his swords in the other as he exploded through the thick gray thunderclouds over the vast White Mountains of Maine. He urged his steed to go faster and harder than he was used to in their calmer days. Notalus stood in his saddle as Joldryn came through the tree line beneath a fierce windstorm that was battering the Volkov pack lands, but he didn’t stop to handle the storm until he found the voice that visited him in his dreams.
Notalus leapt from Joldryn’s back and landed with a powerful, ground-shaking thud. He ran to where he saw a man lying on his back in the mud and knelt over him. It was him… it was Dustin. Notalus gently touched his bruised cheek, brushing his fingers over the thick beard as he tried to rouse him. Please be okay. Please don’t let me be too late.
“I am right here beside you.”
Dustin leaned into Notalus’ touch, and his eyelids flickered, but he still didn’t open his eyes. “No…talus,” he whispered instead like a reverent worship.
Notalus stared down at the gorgeous half man, half wolf that had captured his interest with only a look and the sound of his strong voice as he’d wooed him with talks of new harvest and loving the earth for all she provided. Against his better judgment, Notalus had returned to the White Mountain in the Earth realm under the pretense of checking on their crops, but he’d needed to see Dustin again. They’d had a moment when he’d given Notalus the tour of the extensive pack farmland while telling him all that he loved about autumn and why it was his favorite season. Dustin had been praising Notalus, the lord of that season, and didn’t know it. He’d simply talked about his life and duties for the pack the same way he would converse with any mortal man. But Notalus was far from normal, and no one had ever made him feel as if he was. It wasn’t until he’d used his abilities to repair Dustin’s land that he’d looked at him differently. And what had been naturally developing between them was brought to a skidding halt when his mortal realized exactly who and what Notalus was.
He touched his palm to Dustin’s broad chest and whispered to the goddess Vanir for her healing power. Seconds went by that felt like days before Notalus’ palm lit up with a soothing white light that radiated from his touch, and Dustin slowly blinked his eyes open until they held and locked onto his. Notalus didn’t speak as he unclasped one of the medallions on his robe, swiped it from around his shoulders, and draped it over Dustin’s trembling body. No rain, wind, or hail could touch him beneath its protection.