Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 247882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1239(@200wpm)___ 992(@250wpm)___ 826(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 247882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1239(@200wpm)___ 992(@250wpm)___ 826(@300wpm)
“I was,” he said, and Reaver wisely kept his mouth shut. “I need your special hands.”
In other words, someone needed to be healed. It wasn’t him. I picked up no signs of pain from him. Only acidic annoyance. “Who’s injured?”
“Perry.”
“Perry? Did something happen in Massene?” I took a deep breath. At least now I knew where Delano had disappeared off to. “He didn’t remain at Massene, did he?”
“Nope.”
“Gods.” I started forward. “How badly is he injured?”
“Took an arrow in the shoulder, clean in and out,” Kieran told me. “He says it’s just a flesh wound, but from the looks of it, it’s not. He’d heal from it in a day or two, but Delano’s worried.”
I started to ask why Perry didn’t just feed, but then I remembered Casteel’s unwillingness to do so from someone when he needed to. What he had felt for me, before he was even willing to acknowledge it, had become a mental block that he hadn’t been able to get past until I’d Ascended and needed to feed upon awakening. It could be the same for Perry.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“She was dizzy earlier,” Reaver announced. My head jerked in his direction. He looked utterly unapologetic. “After healing all those who were injured.”
“What?” Kieran looked down at me, his pale eyes sharp.
“I’m fine. I hadn’t eaten, which is why I devoured what probably accounts for half a pig.”
Kieran wasn’t assured. “Maybe you should sit this one out. He’ll heal eventually—”
“I don’t want him to suffer or for Delano to worry about him. I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t.”
A muscle ticked along his jaw. “I have a feeling that’s a lie.”
“Something I think we can agree on,” Reaver chimed in.
“No one asked you,” I shot back.
“So?”
I exhaled slowly. “I think I like you better in your draken form.”
“Most would agree with you on that.” Picking up another apple from the bushel, Reaver brushed past us in his sheet. “I think I will take a nap.” He paused at the archway. “I know you’re not nearly as graceful as most wolven, but please do not step on me while I’m sleeping.” And with that parting shot, Reaver left the kitchens.
“I really don’t like him,” Kieran muttered.
“Never would’ve guessed that.” I turned to him. “Where’s Perry?”
It took him half a minute to drag his attention from the entryway. I had a feeling he used that time to convince himself not to go after the draken. “You were dizzy?”
“Barely. I stood up quickly, and it’s been a long day with little sleep and not enough food. It happens.”
“Even to gods?”
“I guess so.”
Kieran eyed me closely, in a way that was almost as intense as Casteel would look upon me. As if he were trying to ferret out things I wasn’t saying. “Do you still feel hungry after eating nearly an entire pig?”
I never should’ve said that, but I knew what he was getting at. “I don’t need to feed. Can you take me to Perry?”
Kieran finally relented and led me out to a back stairwell. “Perry can fight,” he said after I asked why Perry hadn’t stayed behind. “He’s trained with a sword and bow. Nearly all Atlantians are after the Culling.”
I hadn’t known that.
There was a lot I still didn’t know about the people I now ruled and was responsible for. And, gods, didn’t that make my heart start racing?
“And that goes for changelings and those of mortal birth?” I asked. “Is it a requirement?”
“It goes for all who are able to do so.” Kieran kept his pace slow as we climbed the narrow, windowless stairs. “But they’re not required to join the armies. That is their choice. This is so all can defend themselves. Perry’s as skilled as any soldier. A bit rusty, but his father wanted him to focus more on the land they owned and shipping.”
“Is that what Perry wants?”
“I think so.” Kieran opened the door on the second floor to a wide hall lit with gas lamps. “But I don’t think he wants to stay back when everyone else is fighting.”
But everyone else wasn’t fighting. Younger Atlantians served as couriers and stewards. Helped prepare meals and run a slew of errands.
Kieran led the way down the hall, stopping before a door left ajar. He rapped his knuckles off the wood.
“Come in,” came the muffled response I recognized as Delano.
Pushing open the door, Kieran stepped inside. I followed, giving the space a quick scan. The chamber was small and outfitted with the necessities, but airy with a large window overlooking the cliffs that allowed the rapidly approaching night to seep inside. There was an adjoining bathing chamber that had to be a welcome addition after nearly a month of living in an encampment and then the manor in Massene, which hadn’t felt much different than the tents.