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)
Confusion hit and hit hard. “Why did my mother give me this?”
“To kill me, I’m certain.”
The Guardian! His voice came from behind me. I spun, watching as he marched into the chamber with a cluster of soldiers. My heart became a war drum. All trace of affability was erased, his mien as blank as Jasher’s in the beginning.
“Surrender Moriah,” Ian said, not even sparing me a glance. He brightened when he noticed the rings. “Bring her to me, Jasher.”
“Yes, sir.” Jasher didn’t miss a beat, pushing me toward Ian.
“I don’t understand.”
“If you think I care whether or not you understand, you are more foolish than your parents.” Ian grabbed my wrist and flattened my palm against the case.
When nothing happened, he frowned and increased pressure. Still nothing happened.
Scowling now, he ripped the ring from my finger. “Bind her. Take her to the dungeon and lock her with the others.”
“Yes, sir,” Jasher repeated, stalking closer.
I remained rooted, glaring at him. He’d meant it when he’d kissed me. Meant it when he’d admitted he wanted me to come back. I knew he hadn’t lied, and not because there was no crimen or storm. Because I trusted him. Which meant, what? He was on my side, but he had a part to play right now? That he couldn’t help me if the Guardian suspected him of betrayal? Yes! That must be it.
He grabbed me, a little rougher than I expected. But then, he had to really sell this. I fought for the same reason, but in the end he tied my wrists behind my back and nudged me toward the door.
I wrenched from the contact. “Don’t touch me, traitor!” Too much?
His blank expression remained as cold and unconcerned as Ian’s. He evinced not the slightest hint of guilt or remorse. Still I trusted him.
“Ah, did someone think the handsome executioner was a hero?” Attempting to open another case, and failing, the Guardian told Jasher, “Go ahead. Show her what you and all the others are. You have my permission this once. Perhaps then she’ll accept her fate.”
“Show me what?” I demanded.
A muscle ticked in Jasher’s jaw a split second before he changed. Horror gripped my throat and squeezed, choking me. His body grew, his bones elongating. Warping. Scales appeared over his flesh, his teeth lengthened and sharpened, and his back produced gnarled wings.
In a matter of seconds, a monster jumped out of his innermost being and overtook his outer shell. “Monstra,” I croaked.
With his narrowed gaze focused somewhere beyond me, he huffed and puffed. Smoke streamed from his nostrils.
Strangled sounds left me. “You’re one of them. A living nightmare.” A destroyer.
With hatred filling his eye sockets, he lifted his head and roared.
CHAPTER 22
A VICIOUS CYCLE
My shock only magnified when my escorts pushed me inside a prison cell already occupied by a bedraggled Patch and an anxious Leona. A soldier shut the metal bars in my face before he and the other took up posts only a few feet away. As if I was in any condition to figure out a way of escape.
I’d just gotten a peek behind the curtain, and my mind was nothing but a jumbled mess. Jasher wasn’t my friend, my partner in rescue or the love of my life. He wasn’t just a clone, either; he was a monstra. A creature of death and destruction who’d once killed one of his own, pretending to aid me while escorting me to his leader, the father of all royal guards. The father of all monstra. Evil. The Guardian and his clones were the beasts terrorizing towns and townsfolk. The killers decapitating innocent sacrifices.
A humorless laugh burst from me. No wonder the royal guard forced everyone to keep their eyes downcast. Jasher was the Guardian. Fruit of the same tree, exactly as I’d supposed. According to my mother’s stories and paintings, the Guardian and his monstra killed King Ahav. My father. And now the army from hell planned to kill me. No way they would leave me alive after this. I was only surprised my end hadn’t yet come. They must need something more from me.
“What’s going on?” Leona demanded. Moans of pain echoed, spilling from other cells. “Why am I locked in a dungeon?”
“We’re here because I trusted the wrong person and led you to slaughter.” I shoved the words between my clenched teeth. “Patch is here because she tried to kill me.”
The mayor gasped. “What?”
The redhead huddled in a corner, her arms wrapped around legs drawn up to her chest, saying nothing. Tear stains marred her cheeks.
Her remorse only fueled my anger. Too little, too late. Now I was trapped inside a small cell with the betrayer who’d plotted my murder from the beginning.
“The Guardian is pure evil,” I said. “His royal guards morph into monstra. At the moment, we are their greatest enemy.”