A Dawn of Gods & Fury – Fate & Flame Read Online K.A. Tucker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
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“So, she stabbed you in the thigh, but you care for her.” Destry tests a knit blanket between her fingers before we keep going.

“I deserved to be stabbed, so I will not hold that against her.” I give a vague and short explanation about our family’s histories and crimes against each other. Though the crimes are beginning to seem more and more one-sided. In fact, maybe all one-sided. King Ailill may have caused the rift, but how many generations must pass before you are forgiven for your ancestors’ wrongs?

I never asked myself these questions before getting to know Annika. Now, I struggle to condemn her for any of it.

“You are telling me that you are both heirs to your realms’ thrones.” Destry stares with disbelief.

“Spare heirs. We have siblings who are in line before us. In Annika’s case, one is likely dead. I’m not sure about the other.” I pause at a clothing stand with fine leathers, admiring a tan-color vest that would complement Annika’s blond locks and fair skin.

“Do not ask me for coin for that,” Destry warns.

“Have no fear, my friend. I would not want to deprive you of your ale.” But I wish I had pilfered more than that one gold brush now. I could use my affinity to knock that stand and distract the merchant’s attention, but she’s an elderly woman and I imagine those weathered hands spent countless hours on this stitchwork.

We keep going.

“What happens if by some miracle, you return to your realm? Will you be at war?”

“That, my friend, is a very good question.” There are clearly things at play that we know nothing about.

We round a corner and come upon a group of six guards at a stand selling cured meats. I can’t understand their words, but it’s clear they’re arguing with the young boy merchant.

“What is going on there?” I ask.

“They do not feel they should pay full price. Keep moving,” Destry whispers. “Do not do anything to stir questions.”

“Give me some credit.” I wander over to a nearby fruit stand to study the elderberries. Annika might like these. I hold out my palm. “I will pay you back, I promise.”

Destry scowls as she digs through her pockets.

Meanwhile, I’m keeping one eye on the exchange across the street. The noisiest of the guards reaches into the coin purse tied to his belt and flicks the payment at the boy, letting it sail over his head. As the boy spins and scrambles to fetch the money from the dirt, the guards each collect handfuls of linked sausages before walking away.

The boy’s shoulders sink as he discovers he’s been duped.

My anger simmers.

The fruit merchant passes me a small pouch of the berries with a nod of thanks.

“Hold this for a moment, please.” I hand it to Destry. Unsheathing a short dagger from my belt, I stroll past the guards who laugh and gnaw on their pilfered goods, using my affinity to splinter a wooden post that holds up an awning. It comes crashing down, distracting them for the split second I need to slice the leather strap securing the guard’s coin purse.

Really, the fool made it too easy.

While the guards attempt to make sense of what happened, I mosey up to the kid, pointing at the smoked sausage and holding up three fingers.

His jaw drops as I slip more than enough to cover it and what the guards stole. With a wink, I move on.

Destry scrambles to catch up with me. “You enjoy tempting fate.”

“No, I enjoy delivering fortune, both good and bad, depending on the person. Here.” I fill her pocket with coins before securing the purse inside my cloak. “May you drink all the ale your tiny body can handle and not tumble off your stool.”

She mutters something in her own language but then flashes me a toothy smile.

50

Annika

The last rays of a setting sun flood in through the window, illuminating my naked flesh beneath the water’s surface. I was not impressed with this attic room when the innkeeper’s nosy wife first led us in, with all its dust and cheap fabrics and tiny bed. But it grows on me the longer I soak in the tub. One might even call the little nook charming.

I hold the bar of soap up to my nose, trying to pinpoint the scent. Rose, definitely. Verbena maybe? And … I inhale again. Is that pepper?

Whatever the combination, the rich lather smooths onto my skin like butter to wash away the stickiness from last night’s honey. I think I’ve gotten it all off.

Fates, I cannot believe I allowed that to happen with Tyree. Of all people!

And then he spent the day not letting me forget it, not that I ever could.

I smile as I think of our time in the barn loft, how forthright he was with his compliments, how revering he was with his hands and his mouth.


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