Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 231436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1157(@200wpm)___ 926(@250wpm)___ 771(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 231436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1157(@200wpm)___ 926(@250wpm)___ 771(@300wpm)
As he trains with Poppy, they discuss her adventures coming to an end. When it’s time to bring in the new guard who is to take Rylan’s place, Vikter escorts her to the Royals to meet Hawke.
Later, after one of her lessons with the Duke, Hawke sends for him out of concern, and Vikter escorts Poppy back to her room.
When the Craven attack, he fights with the guards outside the Rise and sees Hawke also outside the Rise. It worries him that she’s been left alone, but he knows she can take care of herself. Unfortunately, upon his return, Hawke informs him that Poppy was on the Rise fighting during the attack. The next day, he trains her in hand-to-hand maneuvers.
Sometime later, after assisting with a Cursed and leaving Poppy behind, he escorts her to the Rite and hears Agnes’s concerns and warning. Once Hawke arrives, Vikter leaves to tell the commander what he overheard.
Just as Hawke and Poppy are leaving after their rendezvous under the willow, Vikter catches them and knows exactly what was going on. He dons his protective father figure hat and says they’ll spend time together over his dead body. After he dismisses Hawke, he lectures Poppy. She gets angry and tries to get him to understand, reminding him of everything she’s lost and all she’s been denied.
The Descenters attack the Rite, and Vikter tells Poppy to defend herself and not worry about hiding the fact that she can fight. He and Poppy defeat all their foes, but one rises from the floor and mortally wounds Vikter, plunging a sword through his chest, just above the heart.
As he’s dying, he tells Poppy she’s made him proud and apologizes for not protecting her, saying he failed as a man. He then asks her for forgiveness and passes away.
We know that he didn’t actually die. He merely returned to the Arae on Mount Lotho to await his rebirth.
That brings me some comfort.
The rest of these things were revealed after Vikter’s death:
Poppy recalls him telling her she shouldn’t consider the lives of those who hold a sword to her throat.
When he gave her the bloodstone and wolven-bone dagger on her sixteenth birthday, he said, “This weapon is as unique as you are. Take good care of her, and she’ll return the favor.”
Now that we know the dagger was made of Preela’s bones, that statement gives me goose bumps.
He once told Poppy: “I’m not untouched by it. Death is death. Killing is killing, Poppy, no matter how justified it is. Every death leaves a mark behind, but I do not expect anyone to take a risk I would not take. Nor would I ask another to bear a burden I refuse to shoulder or feel a mark I haven’t felt myself.”
He also said the mist is more than just a shield for the Craven. It fills their lungs since no breath does and seeps from their pores because no sweat can.
Since viktors cannot reveal their reasons or identity, Vikter was very deliberate about what he told Tawny in her shadowstone dream and what he asked her to relay for him—like the full prophecy, the fact that Poppy already knew the Consort’s name, and what would happen if someone with Primal power spoke it in the mortal realm.
POPPY AND CASTEEL
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EXCLUSIVE SCENE ~ THE HEART DOESN’T CARE
~Poppy~
Drowning in panic and helplessness, I jolted awake with a leashed scream burning my throat.
Heart thundering, my eyes snapped open. My wild gaze darted around the unfamiliar, moonlit chamber. It took me a moment to recognize my surroundings. I started to sit up, but the weight of a warm arm resting against my bare waist stopped me.
Resisting the urge to reach beneath the blanket and touch him, I willed my heartbeat to slow.
It was just a nightmare.
Casteel was beside me, alive and well, and we were at an inn tucked away in the small town of Tadous, halfway to the capital. We weren’t in that dark, cold place, trapped and—
Just a nightmare.
The soft bed shifted. A heartbeat later, the scent of pine and rich spice enveloped me, crowding out the faint smell of woodsmoke.
“Poppy?” Casteel’s voice, roughened by sleep, reached me a second before his arm tightened around my waist.
Hearing his gruff voice calmed the pounding in my chest. I turned my head, making out the chiseled line of his jaw and the curve of his lush mouth. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, clearing my throat. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
His chin, slightly roughened by stubble, grazed my shoulder, sending a shiver through me. “It’s okay.”
No, it wasn’t. I couldn’t even begin to keep track of the number of times I’d woken him in the middle of the night. “It’s official. I have to be the worst person to sleep next to.”