Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
A gesture Roux might have made for his Commander. But maybe, possibly, he’d done it for Blythe as well?
She gulped, something akin to tenderness flowing through her. A river newly released from a dam, eroding shores made of pain and grief. Her tremors worsened as she cupped his jawline to lift his head and study his face. His eyes remained closed.
“Flash to the bed, Astra.” The hard floor wasn’t comfortable. Especially for a man of his size, who hadn’t stopped flailing about. “I’ll follow you there, I promise.”
“The screams. Make them stop,” he repeated, as if he didn’t hear her. Maybe he didn’t. He gripped and yanked at hanks of his hair.
Did he speak of the same screams she’d heard when she’d ghosted inside his spirit? If so... She shuddered, remembering the horrifying chorus, and how it had driven her mad in only a matter of seconds.
Not knowing what else to do, she smoothed her fingertips over his brow. His cheeks. “I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”
Um. She would? There would be no better time to visit Wraith Island, reclaim her firstone dagger, then come back here to hack off his head. Or just hack off his head with a regular blade and discover whether his ability to recover from such a devastating wound was as developed as hers.
No. Absolutely not. He’d taken Laban out in battle. How could Blythe do any less with Roux? Sparing him now had nothing to do with his offer to fuel the wraiths and preserve her strength.
To her surprise, the Astra calmed somewhat as she caressed him. Heart thudding, she continued cooing and stroking, doing her best to disregard the soft, smooth texture of his skin.
“Yes,” she rasped. “I’ll keep you safe. For now.”
When he leaned into her touch, instinctively deepening the contact, a barbed lump grew in her throat. How could this male who’d known nothing but cruelty for the bulk of his life seek more of her? The ruthless harphantom who’d been nothing but, yep, cruel to him.
Whoa. Hold up. Was she vacillating between regret and sympathy for Laban’s killer right now?
Okay. Time to remind herself of Roux’s callous side. So. Screw it. There was no better opportunity to do what was needed than to experience one—or two or twenty—of his past blessing tasks. If she experienced pain while witnessing it, so what? If she died like the shifter, she died. Again, so what? She would come back. This way, at least, she’d know her own reaction to the tattoos.
What had he been forced to do in the past, anyway? To Blythe’s knowledge, none of the other Astra had ever spoken of his former deeds. And Roux himself had been super adamant that she never, ever look at his alevala...
What didn’t he want her to see? And when had she started taking orders from her enemy? Or a maybe enemy.
Maybe?
She huffed out a breath. He was.
Curiosity riding high, Blythe did it. She slid her gaze to his chest. Inhale. Exhale. The pictures continued to jump, shifting too swiftly to lock onto. Hmm. Each of the marks seemed to be a different version of Roux. Even pieces of him. There. His eyes, flickering with sparks of red. There. His lips, opening wide to unleash a bellow. There. His hand, clenching tight.
Rather than chase a single image, she stared hard at the spot just over his heart. Finally! A connection snapped into place when those inked eyes appeared, meeting her gaze. Impact jolted her, air gushing from parted lips.
Her mind blanked, only to recalibrate in seconds, a scene taking shape...
Suddenly, she was lying on a familiar stone altar, her mind nothing but noise. No, no. Not her. Anything she experienced now, she experienced as Roux. But the altar. Wow. It reminded her of the one Roc had built for Taliyah, when he’d intended to sacrifice her.
Roux wasn’t bound, but he wasn’t free, either. He remained motionless.
He wore a loose white shirt and matching pants. Not to mention his customary blank expression. Above him, lavender sunlight shone from an azure sky. Around him, a crowd of—what were those? Shadow people? Or something else entirely? Dark outlines matched the shapes of many of the Astra, even those of Chaos and his attendants.
Eerie, yes, but tainted? No. So how had a memory like this killed an immortal in a matter of seconds, simply because she’d viewed it?
One of the almost-people approached the altar. This one had the shape of Commander Roc. Wait. Was Roux about to suffer the same fate as his leader’s previous brides?
Yep. Sure enough. The silhouette of Roc tore into Roux, shredding his body. Tissue and blood flew in every direction. Through it all, Roux made not a peep. He lost limbs. Organs. Even his head.
So. He could recover from a beheading.
Abruptly, the scene spun into another. As the new one crystalized, she realized she was—no, Roux was standing before a shaded outline of the Astra named Halo...who pinned and shredded him just as Roc had done.