The Three Kings (Forsaken #3) Read Online Penelope Sky

Categories Genre: Dark, Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forsaken Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
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I set the blade down before I approached him. My eyes were on the side of his face, and I stood at his shoulder, almost close enough to touch. With the same intensity he gave me, I stared, knowing he could feel my look.

He ignored my stare. “Don’t.”

My hand reached for his arm, and my fingers immediately grabbed on to the bulk of muscle underneath his sleeve. I felt it the second I touched him, that rush of energy, the first spark of a fire.

He inhaled a slow and deep breath.

I gave a tug, trying to get his body to turn and face me.

He was as unmovable as a mountain.

My hand cupped his cheek, and I forced his face to turn. I rose on my tiptoes and reached for his mouth with mine.

He snatched my arm and threw it down. “What part of I want to kill you don’t you fucking understand?” He stepped away, his shoulders rigid with tension, and his shirt fit him differently because his entire back was coiled with rage. He moved several feet away before he turned around and looked at me again, a thunderstorm in his eyes. His look was just as intense as it’d been before, but now it was tinged with unspeakable anger.

“But you won’t—”

“You have no idea what the fuck I will or won’t do.”

The rejection was just as painful as last time. I was the kind of person that wanted what I couldn’t have, but this was different. It hurt a lot more. “Yes, I do. You’re strong enough to control it.”

He gave a loud sigh that sounded like a growl. “You wouldn’t say that if you could feel what I feel. If you could feel the torment as it wraps around your entire body and drowns you. It’s suffocating. Unbearable.”

“You’ll get better at it—”

“It’s not worth the risk. You could have any man you want—”

“But I want you.”

He looked away, his jaw clenched tight with rage. “I have nothing to offer you.”

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

“You’re risking your afterlife for someone who’s not even alive. I’m not worth it.”

“I think you are.”

This time, he turned around and released another growl. “Stop it.”

“No.”

He turned back to face me. “I accomplished what I set out to do. I’ve been granted asylum from your king and handed you the weapons you need to win this next battle. That means you and I are finished.”

My arms crossed over my chest, and I maintained a hard expression, refusing to acknowledge how much that hurt.

He walked out. “Goodbye, Elora.”

I carried on in the forge for the rest of the day. Whenever I was down, I liked to stay busy. I liked to work with my hands, keep my mind entertained, act like there wasn’t a weight in my heart.

I forged the blades for the soldiers and made a few arrows, but once the sun was gone, I was too tired to keep going. I went to the pub across the street and sat at the bar. The ale was delicious, even better than I remembered, and I realized I never wanted to leave HeartHolme again.

When I looked across the bar, I noticed Victor sitting there with a woman. They laughed over their drinks, their faces lit up in the candlelight. Victor was so entranced by the pretty woman, he didn’t notice me sitting there.

“Good for him.” I paid my tab and headed home, the ale in my belly enough to keep me warm against the cold, to make me feel weightless enough that the pain didn’t reach my bones. I made it inside the house, engulfed in warmth from the fire that burned in the hearth.

The fire that I didn’t make.

I stripped off my jacket and tossed it on the table as I made my way farther inside. That was when I noticed him in the armchair, blending in with the darkness of the shadows, his knees apart, his elbow on the armrest. His eyes caught the light and glinted as they followed my movements.

My heart dropped into my stomach and bounced back up into my throat. Men hadn’t made me nervous since I was a teenager. I grew out of that phase with an armor of confidence. But his presence made me weak from top to bottom, made my mouth forget to swallow. Maybe it was because he was dangerous. Maybe it was because he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. Maybe it was because he gave me a thrill that no living man ever could. Or maybe it was because I was stupid.

He rose to his feet and approached me, a head taller, at least a hundred pounds heavier. He had to tilt his head down to regard me because of our height difference. Closer he came, his footsteps quiet against the rug.



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