Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“I am Kanta. There’s no reason to introduce yourself. Neeka updated me.”
She did, did she? Rathbone bit his tongue, tasting blood. “You in charge or are you merely a lackey?”
“Today, I am the decider of your destiny.” Kanta tossed the pack to the floor, out of Rathbone’s immediate reach. A heavy thunk sounded as the zipper gaped open. “Why do you carry a bag filled with pink rocks?”
Rocks were the “essentials?” You’ve got to be kidding me. He glanced over. Sure enough, a pile of fist-size, pink rocks weighed down the material.
His fury burned a thousand degrees hotter.
“Nothing to say?” Kanta asked.
Tone as casual as he could manage, he said, “I’m quirky like that.”
A light flared in the shifter’s eyes, there and gone. At the same time, Rathbone’s feet caught fire, disintegrating in the blue flames. Anguishing pain wracked him, but not by word or deed did he reveal it.
He flashed his teeth, displaying an amused smile as his feet regrew gradually. “No way you’re in charge of this realm while the Astra play whipped househusbands in Harpina. I’ve gotten hotter watching Golden Girls.”
The dragon’s nostrils flared. Rathbone expected a thorough head to toe roasting. With impressive restraint, his visitor controlled his temper, seconds ticking by without the start of another inferno.
Kanta rolled his shoulders and popped his neck. “You push me on purpose, and I am unsure why. But I will find out.” He withdrew a thin, half-moon blade from a hidden sheath on the side of his leathers. “A cut from this weapon cannot heal.”
Rathbone arched a brow. “Are you waiting for an engraved invitation? Start.”
Whoosh. The blade sliced through his jugular and returned to the dragon. Blood spurted from the wound, spraying over the floor, the pack, and even the walls. Though his flesh didn’t knit together as swiftly as usual, it did knit together, earning a confused frown from the other male.
Another toss. Another slice. More spurting blood. Yet again, Rathbone healed. He flashed his teeth with another smile. “Clearly you’ve never fought a King of the Underworld.”
“You have tricks. This is good to know. I do as well.” Kanta withdrew something resembling an ice pick from a second pocket. “This little gem—” He went quiet as the room rumbled.
High-pitched squeaks rang out as the pack shook. A second later, a handful of blood-splattered rocks erupted from the opening.
His jaw dropped. Not rocks, after all. Small, round creatures with beady eyes, sharp teeth, and sharper claws. Half glommed onto Kanta, ripping through his torso, and there was nothing the dragon could do to stop them. The other half went after the metal bugs.
In a matter of minutes, the warrior lay motionless on the floor and the bugs were no more. Darkness filled the cell. Not that it mattered. Rathbone possessed excellent night vision.
He leaped to brand-new feet, prepared to fight. The creatures jumped on him and—they were kissing him? Rathbone froze. What was even happening right now?
“Good beasties,” he crooned, uncertain what else to do. “Daddy is ready to leave this room. Help him?”
Trilling with excitement, they slinked off and focused on the walls, clawing and chewing through the stone. As the hole grew larger, the beasties shrank, leaving layers of dust in their wake. Would they disappear altogether?
A worthy sacrifice.
As they pressed on, he gathered Kanta’s weapons. The boomerang. The ice pick. Several daggers. He stuffed everything inside the pack and noticed a multitude of rocks remained. What had brought the others to life? The violence? His blood? A stern lecture from Neeka before she’d stuffed them in the bag?
Speaking of the oracle, his searing fury ticked down a level. A small level.
The beasties reached the other side of the wall before whittling away to nothing.
The hole they’d created was big enough for Rathbone. Excellent. He crouched to his knees, ready to start crawling.
Neeka stuck her head through the breach, her amber gaze searching. She beamed a smile when she spotted him. With a cheery tone, she said, “Hey, Wrath Boned. Surprised to see me?”
A bolt of pure desire pierced his chest. “Yes,” he hissed.
“Well, that’s rude,” she replied with a pout. “As if I would fail to facilitate our escape. You’re welcome. Again.”
He longed to grab and shake her. Yearned to kiss the breath from her lungs. “You have some explaining to do.” He shoved himself through the hole, urging her backward. “You can talk on the go.”
* * *
“I knew this was our only means of survival, you see,” Neeka said, completing her explanation. Hopefully she’d made sense. She struggled to think as she led Rathbone through a series of secret passages hidden throughout the Astraian palace.
The mental blanket had slowed its descent, but it wasn’t stopping. She lost more memories by the minute. In fact, she expected a total reset soon. Which sucked so hard. The things she’d heard had begun to unravel...things past, present, and future, spoken by countless immortals. Mysteries best left undiscovered. Nonsense. Meaningless gossip. Crimes. Love affairs. Riddles and complex puzzles certain to break her brain for good. Secrets, secrets, secrets.