Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“What is this, a bloody circus?” I demand.
Lucan thrusts his hands on his hips confrontationally. “You’re not going back to Texas.”
If my brother is expecting an argument, I hope he won’t be too disappointed.
“I’m not,” I agree. “I’m staying to fight. A weapon like the Doomsday Diary needs all the protection possible. I intend to help.”
A smile bursts across Lucan’s face. “In that case, you’ll need this.” He pulls out a golden box with the ornate seal of the House of MacTavish across the top. “Will you take your wand?”
“With pride.” My chest swells just thinking about holding the magical instrument made especially for me—and embracing the magic I was born to.
“Kneel.”
I do, head bowed.
“In the name of the House of MacTavish, brandish this well and do good. Protect yourself, those you love, and guard this with your life. If you swear to do thus, I give this wand to you.”
“I swear it,” I vow as Lucan puts the length of wood in my hands.
Goose bumps break out across my skin, and power vibrates through my body. I’m truly a wizard now. I look up to find my mate smiling proudly.
Lucan slaps me on the back. “Congratulations on transitioning, mating—everything. I think Mum is right; you’re a gifted wizard.”
“I hope you’ll consider me one of the Doomsday Brethren, too.” I address the others assembled: Lucan, Ice, Duke, Marrok, Tynan, and, just recently, Ronan Wolvsey. “I’m staying to fight with you. I’m committed to winning with you.”
Lucan and Duke both step closer, and my brother speaks. “Absolutely. If Bram was well, he’d approve.”
Sabelle sniffs, holding back tears, and Lucan rushes to put an arm around her. “I’m sure your aunt and the healer will find a cure for Mathias’s mysterious spell.”
I hope so. The Doomsday Brethren’s leader hasn’t regained consciousness. He seems caught in a terrifying state where he’s struggling for every breath and no one can reach him.
“And you’re not alone.” Lucan caresses Sabelle’s cheek. “You cared for me when I needed help. Let me help you.”
She hesitates, then nods, her soft blue eyes clinging to his in heartbreak before she sobs against him. “Thank you.”
“I know. He’s my best friend,” Lucan croons. “We’ll get through this.”
“Where’s Shock?” Ice growls something low and dangerous as, like a predator, he tracks Lucan’s hand on Sabelle.
Lucan glares back, and I curse under my breath. Reminders of the elder Denzell are a sore spot for my brother. Anka is still under Shock’s protection and in his bed.
I don’t know how—or if—that will ever change.
“I hope the mate thief and traitor rots.”
I agree.
“Actually,” Sydney speaks up. “I don’t know if Shock is a traitor. He seems to be on Mathias’s side…except that he didn’t tell Mathias that the Doomsday Diary only granted the heart’s true desire. The thought was in the forefront of my mind. Shock could have plucked it out as he did all the others. But he lied to Mathias.”
A puzzled silence falls over the group.
Finally, Duke offers. “I don’t know if we’ll ever know exactly whose side Shock is on. His own, I suspect. He’ll help us…if it suits his purpose. We’d all do well to remember that.”
Of course. How like Shock to play both sides so that, regardless of who proves victorious in the war, he wins. I don’t respect his position, but he’s hardly the first sodding bastard to take it.
“What do you think he’ll do next? Or Mathias, for that matter?” I ask the others.
“Shock?” Duke shrugs. “I have no idea what he’ll do to save his own skin. But the war isn’t over, and Mathias is predictable in this: He won’t quit until we put him down. We must stay prepared for any eventuality and stand strong together.”
“Amen.” I second his sentiment, appreciating his quiet leadership in the wave of Bram’s concerning illness.
He conveys his thanks with a tired smile. “I must be off. Dinner tonight with my family, including my half-brother’s fiancée.”
He doesn’t look excited.
“You don’t approve?” I ask.
He takes a long time answering. “There’s something about her that’s…troubling. Can’t put my finger on it.”
I hope that doesn’t spell trouble.
“The mirror is ready,” Sabelle says, stepping away from Lucan.
Sydney snaps into action and begins her transcast. Yes, the Council sent missives objecting, but with Bram so ill, Sabelle is clandestinely—and quite expertly—fielding messages on his behalf. Those old bastards can’t know that Rion is down or they’ll use it as an excuse to give him the heave-ho. As far as the Doomsday Brethren is concerned, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
“During a battle earlier today, a group of wizards destroyed a mysterious weapon Mathias D’Arc used to rip the souls from unsuspecting humans and convert them to Anarki instantly. D’Arc escaped, but his forces have been badly damaged. As always, updates will follow as necessary,” she concludes. “Report anything suspicious or anyone aggressive to Bram Rion. Until my next update, I’m Sydney Blair.” She cuts a glance my way and winces at my scowl. “Make that Sydney Blair MacTavish. Stay safe, magickind.”