Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Impossible,” I breathe out. “He’ll never let it happen.”
Not to mention, not sure he can. Amell told me Kymaris was only able to rip a hole big enough to let her army through after enacting a spell that took twenty-eight years to funnel magic into Zora, then she had to sacrifice an original fallen Light Fae.
“I suspect it’s not impossible,” Jago says smugly. “My scouts report he decimated my soldiers at Calashte, barely breaking a sweat. He’s no ordinary Dark Fae.”
No, he’s not. Zora gave him powers the others don’t have. They also have no clue the full extent of his abilities. The attack on Calashte was obviously a setup to gauge Amell’s strength. Jago isn’t as stupid as I thought. I look around for Ariman, but I don’t see him.
“Even if Amell could open the veil enough, he’d never do it. He’s promised Zora to keep the First Dimension safe.”
“He’ll do it if he wants to keep you alive,” Jago says with a harsh laugh, bending his head to sniff my neck.
I shudder in revulsion.
“J-a-a-g-g-o-o-o,” a deep, ominous voice bellows, echoing from all directions and causing the ground to shudder. “Release her.”
Amell.
Jago’s soldiers unsheathe their swords, holding them angled before their bodies as they look around. Jago reacts swiftly, and before I know it, I’m spun, pulled back into his chest, and a knife is at my throat.
Everyone’s heads turn left, right. People spin in slow circles and tip their heads to watch the skies, expecting Amell to swoop down on his raven wings.
“There he is,” someone yells.
“The bridge,” another voice calls out.
I look up, and Amell is standing on the edge, wings flared, and staring down at us. His hands are fisted tight and I can’t see the expression on his face, but I don’t need to. I heard his tone when he called out, and I can feel waves of dark fury pulsing from him.
Everyone can feel it because several of the fae utter fearful cries, and they all push in closer. The demons gnash their teeth and snarl, too hardwired to kill without mercy.
“Steady,” Jago calls to the legions of his faithful and then looks up at the bridge to yell to Amell. “Keep your distance or your human will die.”
“What is it you want?” Amell merely asks, his voice booming with power and it bounces around inside my head.
“Open the veil,” Jago barks. “Let us through to the First Dimension, or your human dies.”
“That’s all you want?” Amell asks as he stares down.
“That’s all we want,” Jago confirms as he removes the knife from my throat and pushes me slightly forward, his hand gripping the back of my neck. “Let us through, and you can have her back.”
I hold my breath, waiting to see what Amell does, but I’m not prepared when he jumps from the bridge.
Not a swan dive with wings buffeting the air to make a gliding descent, but feet first, straight down, his wings extended upward.
Nothing to slow him down as he slices cleanly through the air. When he lands on his feet without even a wobble, the ground shakes like a major earthquake, and fae stumble from its force. I’d fall myself if Jago didn’t have such a firm grip on my neck. It was an intimidating move, and several of the fae break ranks and run. Amell’s eyes cut their way, and they burst into flames, screams of agony cut short as they dissolve into heaps of ash.
“Enough,” Jago growls, giving me a slight shake with his one-handed grip. “Or I’ll rip off her head.”
Amell’s gaze slides to him before slowly lowering to the inflamed gouges on my arm, still dripping blood.
“Who did that to you?” he asks quietly.
I don’t even think to lie. “Sorcha.”
Amell’s eyes fill with his apology, but within those burning-red pupils, I see retribution. Without his attention ever leaving me, I hear Sorcha scream in agony. My head whips her way, and she bursts into flames like the others, only to burn out quickly and collapse into a pile of black dust.
Jago jolts and pulls me back into him, knife again at my throat. A measure of protection for himself since Amell has made it clear he doesn’t mind obliterating others.
Twisting his neck, Amell looks up at the bridge. I’m stunned to see it packed with fae, their swords drawn. At the forefront stands Truett.
Did he see what just happened to his sister? Is he here to fight for Amell or against him?
“Open the veil now,” Jago screams, panic in his voice. “Let us through, or I’ll stick this knife through her. We only want out. We want what Kymaris promised us.”
“I can’t do that.” Amell stands casually, arms loose at his sides, but his feathers rustle nonstop, bristling with his rage. “I made a promise to Zora to protect the First Dimension from assholes like you.”