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)
Rathbone set off, too, following the royal procession to the town square, noting everything at once. From the number of demons present to the type of weapons hidden beneath their clothing.
Styx climbed atop a dais where a trio of torture devices waited. A stock, a chopping block, and a spiked pole. The sovereign strapped the female to the post.
“I don’t deserve this,” she cried, her tears spilling over her cheeks. The salty liquid mixed with the blood dripping from her brow to her chin. “I did nothing but tell you the truth, Styx. I don’t love you the way you love me. I just want to leave. Why do you wish to keep me? Why won’t you let me go?”
“She lies,” the sovereign bellowed, slapping her. Growls brewed in Rathbone as blood trickled from a fresh cut on her lip. “She came to me. Bartered her body for my protection. I accepted, only to learn she’s a traitor seeking to steal my kingdom for her own.”
For several heartbeats, silence blanketed the land. Then someone laughed and others joined in. Everyone viewed his protests for what they were: a hollow attempt to appease his masculine pride. This fragile fluff steal a kingdom of the Underworld? Hardly.
A vein pulsed in the center of the king’s forehead. With a rough huff, he snatched a cat-’o-nine-tails from a hook on the pole and whipped the demons in range of the dais. The collection of tethers slapped each soldier across the face, slicing through skin, scales, muscle, and even bone. High-pitched screams blended with a new round of laughter.
Styx stomped behind the female, who flinched and gagged at the gruesome sight before she scanned the crowd. Her crystalline gaze slipped over Rathbone once more only to snap back and widen. Did she sense his strength?
“Help me,” she beseeched him. “Please.”
Everything inside him screamed yes!
“Yo! Rathbone. Stop lazing, big guy, and wake up.”
He frowned. That voice. Feminine, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Familiar. Arousing. Embers of fire kindled.
“I don’t want to die.” The goddess struggled against her bonds, drawing his gaze yet again. And yet again, her plight snared him, his chest clenching. “I’ve never gotten to live.”
He knew the feeling. Must save her.
“Give her to me,” a demon demanded.
Others called out the same. A fight broke out around him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the goddess.
Styx ignored the battle and prepared the whip for its next strike—at the goddess. Sunlight illuminated every bruise and cut she’d already endured, now evident beneath the dirt and—Rathbone’s brow furrowed. He did not spy a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes as she surveyed the chaos around her. Did he? No, of course he didn’t. Terror etched her expression.
She needed protection. Saving.
Rathbone withdrew a blade. Yes, I want this kingdom...and the female. As strongly as he’d reacted to her, she must be his fated one.
“Come on, McMuscles. I’m being serious. Wake. Up.” There it was again. The voice. Soft fingers seemed to brush over his face, yet no one stood before him. “We’ve got things to do. Stuff has happened, okay? I’ve learned much while you’ve been snoozing your life away.”
Things to do? Yes. He must save the treasure bound to the pole before she died in anguish. But...he also didn’t want to lose his connection to the speaker. Instinct demanded he claw his way to her, grab her, and claim her as his own, forcing all other males to admit an inescapable truth: She belongs to me.
He blinked and shook his head. Belongs to me? Was the brunette not his fated, after all?
“FYI,” she said, “I’ll give you ten more seconds to wakey, wakey on your own then I’ll take a more direct route. Aka stabbing you until you fight me off. Ten. Nine. Eight. Oh, what the heck. Let’s jump ahead. One.”
He was torn between two desires, wanting to—Rathbone roared as a sharp pain erupted in his shoulder.
He jerked upright and opened his eyes. A dagger protruded from his shoulder. A fact he registered just before new memories flooded him. The ocean. The Astra and the fog. Agony. Falling. Water. Dying a thousand deaths without truly dying. The dream. Lore.
He drew in a ragged breath. So many revelations to unpack, but Neeka currently straddled his thighs. Only one thought mattered. Do not let her escape.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” she said, smiling as if she hadn’t just knifed him in the shoulder.
He scowled at her. “Was that truly necessary?”
“Why else would I do it?” She rested her forearms on his pectorals and toyed with the ends of his hair. “You’ll be happy to learn I’ve got a bead on the next bone, and ticked to hear my mother might get there first.”
“Why did you injure me then?” he demanded, clasping her hips to lift her off but holding her close instead.