Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Micah weighed the collar in his grip. Light. Perfect. Bumps littered the outside, but the inside was as smooth as silk. He had insisted. The band was solid, unbreakable, yet thin, further protecting her skin. As long as Vee wore this—and wear it she would—she would be as powerless as a human. Unable to create her beasts or flitter. All in all, she would be unable to escape the wrath of her captor.
His satisfaction deepened. But so did guilt and his own protective instincts. Must handle with care. No. No! He had handled her with care before. With patience, consideration and generosity. Look where it had gotten him. The protectiveness surged anew only because he’d been foolish enough to wed her. Now she bore the titles of wife and queen. A mistake he couldn’t undo unless he killed her—a dishonorable path.
Do no harm to the innocent. Protect what’s yours. Always do what’s right. Never be without a backup plan.
He’d made a mistake. Not just by wedding her but wedding her without crafting a backup plan. Now he could only forge ahead, working with the tools he had.
Gaze locked on the beast, Micah stepped forward again and again, approaching... The time had come to end the standoff.
* * *
VIORI LAY IN the comforting embrace of her family, the sting of her sorrow easing. Through Graves each of her darlings lived on. She felt their love for her, radiating from her newest creation. That love provided a protective bubble of inner peace. And yet, despite that bubble, turbulent dreams plagued her...
In the latest dream, she watched as the stubborn Micah neared the vulnerable Graves, who seemed rooted in place.
Run! she screamed internally. But her baby did not run. He didn’t even walk or hop. Still, he stayed put, surrounded by countless armored men, as if Micah wielded a strange power over him. Maybe he did. He’d called himself the beast tamer. Was he?
Closer and closer the two came, soon to touch... A cry of upset left her. Micah had killed her children once, and he could do it again.
Only a dream, she reminded herself. Only a dream. But it wasn’t, was it? Her stomach twisted. Once, she’d thought she’d dreamed the little boy with the jewels. Then she’d awoken to find him nearby. Somehow, she had seen him then—and she was seeing him now. In real time?
Helplessness filled her as Micah ascended Graves, scaling up, up. Limbs shook. Oh yes. Real time. And she could do nothing about it. Why wasn’t Graves pounding Micah’s bones into powder?
Multiple weapons were now anchored to her murderous husband. The axes he’d used in battle. Swords. Spears. Daggers. A bow and quiver of arrows. Things Norok had tossed him throughout the standoff. How many of those did he hope to use against her child while she could do nothing but watch? Or did he plan to murder her before attacking the newborn? Something he could absolutely do. The crack between Graves’s arm and torso left her vulnerable. Slip a sword through, and he could slice her open from nose to navel.
Must wake. Kill him before he kills us!
Although, he’d had plenty of opportunities to destroy them. All the dead-king-walking had to do was torch the giant, cooking her inside his palm. But he hadn’t. So far, Micah had speared Graves a couple of times, seeming curious rather than malicious.
Graves heaved his breaths, strain emanating from him and enveloping her. With all of her might, Viori fought to rise.
Micah reached out with the collar in his hands. A slave band? Or something more? What would the piece do to her?
Fighting so hard... Argh! Why didn’t Graves shake him off and stomp him while he had the chance? Then, he could simply walk her out of the camp. The encompassing army would do nothing as long as Graves held their queen.
But her darling didn’t act, and she never awoke. With careful contorting, Micah anchored the collar around Viori’s neck. Cold metal. A jolt of power slammed into her, and she gasped, her eyelids popping open.
Graves jolted, too, at last flinging Micah to the ground. She scrambled to her knees as the king smacked into his soldiers, their armor clinking as they fell. Leaning over the top of her child’s arm, she attempted to flitter them both as far as possible. Just in case Micah had dropped a special pebble nearby, allowing the action... Alas. Frustration scraped at her calm facade.
Bright sunlight burned her eyes. As she struggled to remove the collar, she kept her attention from Micah. He sprang to his feet and withdrew his axes, gripping the hilts so tightly his knuckles bleached of color. He looked terrible. The sun had burned his pale skin, leaving red, blistered patches. Good! No one deserved to suffer more.
Members of the army righted and readied their spears, pointing the tips in her direction.