Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Took some doing to free the body from the heavy weight of the fallen who’d landed on him, but I did it. I snatched the iron circlet from his belt loop and took off running for the hut. Anyone in my path received an arrow, male or female. Only the children escaped the executioner’s wrath. But then, they didn’t attempt to approach me.
Near the hut, the now familiar scent of cooking meat hit my nostrils, and an awful suspicion rose from the mire of my thoughts. No, no, on. I quickened my pace. Earl didn’t. He couldn’t.
But he did and he had.
I stopped abruptly, crying out. He’d pushed himself out of his bed, pulled himself straight into the fire, and cooked himself to death, knowing the villagers would come running to save their favorite snack meat, leaving me to gain my freedom without an audience.
Tears blurred my vision. I should have known. Should have suspected at the very least.
Furious shouts penetrated my haze of grief, and I shoved Tommy’s keys into the collar around my neck until I found the right one. The metal shackle unhinged and fell with a thud. Now wasn’t the time to mourn. To waste Earl’s precious sacrifice on my behalf. I scanned the rest of the hut. No sign of Nugget on my bed. No sign of momma rabdog or any of her pups, either.
“Nugget,” I bellowed.
A slight movement under a blanket on the floor caught my attention, and I rushed over. Yes! I gathered the scared baby boy in my arms and zoomed outside, entering total chaos. People ran in every direction, searching for family members and trying to hide from the shooter. Dead and dying bodies with arrows protruding from various locations were now piled all around.
Jasher must have shot anyone who approached my door. How many arrows did he have left? Couldn’t be many. He’d already unleashed more than someone who’d had a grand total of zero arrows yesterday should possess today.
Rather than race for freedom, I held Nugget close to my chest and sprinted for the tent that held the captives. After releasing the first person I came upon—a near impossible feat while cradling a puppy—the newly freed man claimed the keys and released the next prisoner. As the pattern repeated, I dashed for a forest thicket. Get to Jasher. Just get to Jasher. But which way should I go?
An arrow hit the ground ten paces to the right. Jasher’s way of leading me? Guess I’d find out.
Go, go, go! I switched directions, zooming along the arrow-marked route as if someone brandished a whip behind me. When leaves rustled and another whoosh sounded, I slowed, expecting another arrow to land nearby. Except, a big, strong body jumped from a tree branch to land within striking distance of me.
I swung a fist, but he caught my wrist. Angels sang a chorus in my head as our gaze locked and his identity registered. Jasher, here in the flesh, not just a voice in the atmosphere. He no longer wore his armor but a white tunic and black leathers. Gashes and scabs littered his face and arms, dried blood and rips littered his clothing, and filth caked his boots. He’d never looked more rough and tumble, or more smoldery, and I’d never been so happy to see him. But, um, wow. I mentioned the smolder right? Because his eyes sizzled.
Nugget didn’t notice the newcomer, too busy snoozing.
“Hi,” I breathed.
Jasher anchored the bow to his shoulder and dialed it down, suddenly as calm as ever. “Took you long enough.”
I snorted, perhaps a little out of my mind now. “I could say the same to you. Instead I’ll go with hello, Tinman, so good to see you.” Since he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave, the need to flee faded to a soft buzz. “Shall we head out?” Look at me, being all nonchalant and polite in the face of danger.
“There’s no rush. You weren’t followed. Actually, your foes traveled in the opposite direction.”
In that case, I relaxed enough to kiss Nugget’s adorable nose. “Glad you survived. The cannibals told me you were dead.”
“It will take more than a pack of rabdogs to kill me.” His head canted to the side as he studied my bundle of love. “Meanwhile, you decided to domesticate one?”
I hugged Nugget closer. “Yes, and isn’t he a total darling? His birth mother rejected him, and I signed the adoption papers in my heart last night.”
Jasher’s eyes rounded, practically bugging out with shock. “But he’s the runt.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with being a runt. Isn’t that right, sweet boy?” I nuzzled my face into my son’s fur.
“There’s a reason rabdog mother’s always help the smallest of the litter die, Moriah.”
“Because they’re considered feeble? How dare you! Nugget is strong and courageous. By the way, our partnership ends if you so much as attempt to harm him.” The sweet darling had suffered enough. “Also, I thought you weren’t coming for me.”