Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I’ve failed him.
I’ve failed my husband by letting this unnatural anger take over, and he’s the one who’ll have to live with the consequences. My teeth grind when a hot spasm shoots up my back. It’s doing something to my mind, demanding things so terrible I’d rather die than comply. Suddenly, I can smell the smoky aroma of Sylvan’s shadow with such clarity I dash to the rocky shore and dip my head in the salty water.
I’m heaving by the time I lift my head, but a degree of clarity is back. Sylvan is scooting next to me and puts his cool fingers on my hot back. I want to press my whole body against him so he can calm me. But I’m not worthy of his care.
“Hawk? What’s going on?” he asks with uncertainty in his voice, the earlier demands and anger gone.
He deserves to reach Ravanzia safely, not get stuck caring for me while I lose my mind. I know he should leave me here. Still, I push my head against his chest and claw at his damp clothes, taking whatever care he’s willing to give me after the stunt I’ve pulled.
“I’m sorry. I—I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Instead of getting annoyed, as most people would, he holds me close. No one has ever shown me this much patience. Sylvan slides to the sand, and at least I can hope I’m warming him up with the heat burning me from the inside as if I had the sun for a heart.
“Oh, no… Hawk. What is it? You must tell me at once.” He strokes my hair with tender fingers I want to kiss all over.
I’ve already done so much wrong today. I hate that telling him the truth will only add to his worries. I wish I could shield him from what is happening to me, but he needs to know. For his own safety.
“It’s… it’s as if my brain is boiling,” I whimper and squeeze his hand, even though deep down I feel seeking comfort is making the situation more difficult for us both. Being in my presence is putting him in danger. I can’t allow myself to rely on him in this situation. Still, he needs to be aware of what’s going on. “I think it’s the Sunwolf. I get so irrationally angry it’s like molten fire in my blood.”
Sylvan’s gaze is so soothing, even when he frowns with worry. “Fuck. This could be caused by a dozen of different reasons. Because you’re human, or because you weren’t a shadow-wielder and still used the mask. The Sunwolf might be trying to take you over. We will deal with this, Hawk. You should have told me sooner, but that doesn’t matter anymore. I brought you into my world, and I will find a way to help you.”
I stall, meeting his gaze as guilt and shame spread through my body. Maybe this would have been a rational option in another situation, but we are out here on our own, and if I snap, there will be nothing to stop me from hurting him. “No. You need to go on the boat. Please,” I beg, grabbing his hands as I hang my head and push it against him.
Understanding dawns in his eyes. His pupils widen, and what’s left of the ice blue seems to darken. “I’m not leaving you. I made a vow.” He takes a trembling breath and strokes my face. “Listen, it seems that the water cools you down. I will go to Lepearl, plead with her. I know I’ll find a way for her to take us—”
I shake my head and squeeze his thighs with a cry of anguish. “No. No. No. You have to leave me. I’m… I’m not myself. You can’t be trapped with me in the middle of the ocean!”
Sylvan goes so silent I can only hear his heartbeat and the hum of the ocean. He’s thinking. He’s not given up yet. But he has to. He has so much heart, but he’s also smarter than anyone I know. He has to see that I’m right about this.
“If I leave you, and you overheat again, you will go to the ocean. Those waters are dangerous, deadly even at the shore. You must at least let me take you somewhere safe. Even if you turn feral, maybe one day I will come up with a cure, and then I’ll know where to find you.”
I hate that he’s considering putting himself in danger for even a minute longer, but it’s impossible to say no to that last glimmer of hope.
Because I am afraid.
More than after my first kill. More than I was of a bear that once accosted me in the woods, more than of prison, and of death itself. I have been close to finished several times, but somehow this slow agony and the fear of becoming something else seems so much worse than a sudden end.