Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Hills of green make the distant land, and only a short run away are the bluest waters I’ve ever seen, stretching out farther than the eye can see. It’s nearing sunset so the sky is a mass of purples and pinks, with splashes of orange from the sun that causes the water to sparkle. I’m nearly pressing my face to the glass as I drink it all in. I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s all so miraculous. A place a human could only ever dream of.
We pass another market, where soldiers walk on foot, patrolling the area. Not too far away from the market are houses, some big, some small—and even those that look like duplexes. The homes are simple colors—white with brown roofs, or brown with white roofs. Gold gutters and décor. From what I see, none of the homes are more than two stories high… that is until I spot a palace in the distance.
Marble upon marble, with columns throughout and pillars that sparkle. Statues stand outside the palace, lined with gold, the doors gilded too. We drive along a bridge, cerulean waters beneath us, and I capture a view of waterfalls below. It’s like a dream, this place.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Juniper’s voice is in my ear. I look over my shoulder and she’s leaning over the leather seat, resting her chin on top of it.
“Very.”
“I’d live here if I could.”
“Why don’t you?”
She shrugs. “I belong to Blackwater. It’s where I was born. I’m also in the Blackwater Clan. Makes sense to stay.”
I’m not sure how to perceive that. Perhaps the rules are different in their world as far as where a person can live.
Juniper sits back, and Veno swings around a roundabout driveway, parking next to a large fountain with a statue of a woman in the center. The woman is in a long, flowy dress, reaching to the sky.
When Veno kills the engine, everyone climbs out and I follow suit, popping my door open and stepping onto smooth, white cobblestone. The cobblestone shimmers beneath the sunset, like tiny diamonds have been crushed into it.
I hear the tires of a car approaching and look back. Caz pulls up behind Veno, and it’s astounding how much the Blackwater cars stand out in this place. Black with silver rims, next to all this white and gold. It represents them and their wicked demeanors for, sure.
Caz steps out of his car, looking right at me with a grimace. Shit. Did he hear me? He cocks a brow, and it’s enough for me to know he probably heard every thought.
His eyes finally peel away from me, and he tips his chin, looking upward. I follow his gaze, and up the stretch of stairs, standing at the very top of the palace, is a woman.
She stands there, donned in white, with gold threads weaved into her dress. She’s adorned in gold jewelry that shines beneath the sunset, the bottom of her dress blowing with each breeze. A large hoop is pinned in her left nostril, connected to her left earring, and she looks down at us with kind eyes, a smile gracing her ruby lips.
“Welcome, my Blackwater friends!” she greets us, smiling harder.
Caz walks around me, immediately marching up the stairs. As he does, a large man with deeply tan skin steps beside the woman. He’s even buffer than Killian, with long black hair braided down to the center of his back. Brown ink embellishes the majority of his visible skin, and he wears leather pants and a very thin, sleeveless white shirt.
“Is that Alora?” I ask when Juniper steps to my side.
“That’s her,” Juniper responds. “Queen of Vanora herself.”
I swallow hard, following everyone up the staircase. Caz reaches the top first and gives Alora a quick bow, to which she smiles, delighted.
When I reach the top of the stairs, nearly out of breath, my legs aching and on fire, I notice Alora is barefoot, but there is brown ink lining the edges of her feet, her ankles wrapped in diamonds.
“Willow Austin.” Her voice is light, sweet. She smiles at me, and I’m taken aback by her beauty. She’s gorgeous up close, her tan skin flawless—not a blemish in sight. Her glossy black hair is parted at the crown, in a half-up, half-down style. “My word, are you a lovely sight.”
“You know my name?” I ask as her hazel eyes lock on mine.
“I do.”
I want to ask how, but I don’t, and she smiles, turning her eyes to Caz.
“It’s a pleasure to have you here, Caspian.” He sighs, and I hear him internally grumble something about not liking to be called by that name. “How may I be of service?”
Eighteen
WILLOW
Alora is a welcoming queen. I can see why she’s…well, a queen. She’s patient and calm, even with Caz and his temperament. Any question she asks him, he answers as if annoyed, but she doesn’t react. She simply takes the answers in stride while walking through her castle—ruler of all, beneath no one.