Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
The Sunlight flickers in her eyes, only to fade as she gurgles, no longer fighting his hold.
I shouldn’t admire him now. I should consider him a brute and murderer… but he’s a magnificent beast, crouched over her, panting and with the blade still in his hand. When Tristan lowers the lamp, my shadow slides off Kyran, revealing his leather-clad form. He’s like a renaissance painting come to life with his long dark hair dipped in the blood pooled on the floor and the cape thrown over one shoulder.
Leaning over Vinia’s still form, he touches her torn neck, and while I am disturbed by the strange gesture, everything falls into place when a black, elongated silhouette slides onto his finger. The shadow eel is cautious at first, but when Kyran gives its side a tentative stroke, it darts forward and disappears under his sleeve.
My thoughts return to the uncountable creatures slithering over Kyran’s naked body as he fucked me silly. He told me each one stands for a shadow wielder he’s killed, but seeing is believing and now the truth about my fiancé’s nature is impossible to ignore.
I know it’s wrong, but my whole being throbs with yearning for him. I take a step down without thinking, as if he’s pulling me closer by the thread tied between our shadows.
Now that the light is gone, the elves are able to see the result of the duel, and all erupt in cheers, clapping their hands as if this is a competition at sucking up to the future Lord. I feel the bitterness of bile in my throat when I notice how loud the Goldweeds are in their applause. Only Sylvan stays quiet, huddled in the corner of the room and short enough that I can barely see him in the crowd.
I almost feel sorry for him, despite having no warm feelings for my own mother, but my attention is soon diverted when my prince approaches, reaching out for my hand.
I hesitate. There’s blood on his fingers. Red and fresh.
But when I see the uncertainty in his gray eyes, all I want is to disperse it, so I take one more step down and grab his hand. I’ve been part of this execution. There’s no use in pretending otherwise. I chose between him and Vinia, and I don’t regret my decision. Maybe that makes me a monster too.
I can almost physically feel the relief my gesture brings him. And while I now see that blood stains my pin too, I close my eyes when Kyran leans down to kiss my forehead, at peace and safe with him as my protector. The coppery aroma of death is thick in the air, but it’s too late to overthink this, so I smile down at all the courtiers when Kyran holds my hand and addresses his flock.
“Justice prevails.”
He waits a moment for the initial applause to subside, and as disgusting as the Goldweeds are, cheering while their own blood lies dead on the floor, maybe this is a lesson I need to learn if I am to survive this next month.
Even family can’t be trusted.
Only Kyran.
No. Even that isn’t certain, but he at least has vested interest in keeping me alive.
Vinia’s blood is sticky between our fingers as Kyran kisses my knuckles before speaking again.
“This human will be my Dark Companion, and anyone who even thinks about hurting him in any way will suffer the full extent of my wrath. He is the blood pumping through my heart, my promised, and I will burn the Realm for him if I have to.”
It shouldn’t thrill me to hear it, but a shiver still runs down my spine. When I look up at Kyran, it’s as if he took some of Vinia’s light. He’s beautiful, he’s deadly, and set on winning me over.
I swallow and sense myself smiling despite my better judgment. My fingers itch to tremble, but he holds them steady. Kyran has declared his feelings for me in front of the whole court, and even though he’s made it clear to others before that I am to be his Dark Companion, the truth only hits me now, as everyone’s eyes are on me.
To him, I am the prize. The one worth fighting for, the one worth avenging.
My trust issues are a thousand sirens blaring in warning, but I want to feel safe for a moment longer and indulge in the false belief that he might really care about me so deeply.
When Kyran reaches for the pin on his heart, I stop him, putting my hand over his.
“Keep it. Looks like you might need the luck,” I say, trying to be cool and cocky, but my voice still comes out shaky.
Kyran’s brows lower, and he rubs my cheek with the back of his bloodstained hand. Maybe I should be disgusted, but all I feel when he leans over and kisses one of my hands like some old-timey gentleman is bliss.