Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Not even close, and I shouldn’t let my guard down. “You can ask.”
“Why did you want to kill me?” His teeth flash, a hint of white fang showing. “I assume that’s what you were trying to do, no matter how poor of an attempt it was.”
Twist the knife, why don’t you. I scowl at him, hugging his blanket to my chest. “So I could keep your supplies. I thought that was obvious.” I gesture down at my chemise. “Did you undress me while I was unconscious?”
“Yes. I thought that was obvious,” he says, throwing my words back into my face. “If you wanted something of mine so badly, why didn’t you just ask me for it? Have I proven myself so craven that I wouldn’t share? That I would let you starve while I fill my belly?”
He looks so very indignant that it startles me. How can he sit there and say that I’m in the wrong? That I assumed the worst of him? Of course I did. Not only is he a Fellian, but he’s proved himself to be a thief. Twice. “You stole my sled. You stole my knife. Why would I think you were going to share anything when you’re stealing what little I have?”
Nemeth sits back on his stool. He looks utterly flummoxed. “You think I stole from you?”
“I know you stole from me.” I point an accusing finger in his face. “No one else is here, remember?”
He runs a hand down his face, and I can’t help but notice that they’re oversized, like boulders. His feet are overly large, his thighs massive, but I thought his hands would be normal sized, like a human’s. His proportions are all wrong, though. With both hands, he could probably span my waist, and I’m a plump, rounded sort. If he raised a fist, it’d be the size of my head. “You think I stole from you.”
“You did. You stole my blade—”
“You left it on the floor and it had fallen into a dark corner. I didn’t think you would find it on your own, so I retrieved it and kept it safe. You never came to ask for it back.” His tone is dangerous. “If you would have checked with me before jumping to conclusions, you would realize that I have never meant ill for you.”
I swallow hard, feeling guilty. What he says is plausible…if I trust the enemy. Still, he hasn’t acted like an enemy to me. Not truly. Have I overreacted so much, then? I know when I don’t take my medicine, my thoughts get erratic, but I don’t think I can blame everything on my blood curse. I’ve been assuming the worst about him.
“So what is it you want?” I ask. “An apology?”
He gives me an exasperated look. “I want a truce, Candra.”
“A truce,” I echo, confused.
Nemeth nods, the movement proud and just a little stiff. “We are the only company allowed each other for the next seven years. I see no reason why we should be enemies. Why we should war against each other here inside this tower, when it would be far better to be friends.”
Friends. With a Fellian.
A man I just tried to kill. A man who has quietly nursed me back to health, who simply wants a truce. It makes me suspicious, but at the same time, it also makes sense. These past six months have been long and lonely, and it’s hard to do everything on my own. If we pool our resources, will it not be easier? Sitting by the fire together? Relying upon one another?
Having someone to talk to?
My throat tightens at how much I want that. But I try not to reveal too much in case there’s another hidden bargain somewhere in his words. “I suppose you make a good case.”
“I could ensure that you take your medication, too.” He reaches out and touches my arm, stroking a claw down the inside. “You’ve been mangling yourself.”
That soft, gentle caress takes me completely by surprise. My body clenches pleasurably, and I gaze down at the sight of his dangerous-looking claw teasing over my horribly bruised arm. “It’s difficult to shove a needle into yourself,” I admit. “And I’m not very good at it. My nurse had gentle hands, but I guess I’m impatient.”
“I’m not.” He runs that claw up and down my arm one more time and then pulls back. “If you trust me, I can administer it for you.”
His touch is slightly proprietary, and yet not all that unwelcome. Is it because he’s been caring for me? Or am I so lonely that even a Fellian is starting to look good? “And what do you want in return?”
He gives me a look of sheer exasperation. “Why do you think I always want something?”
I lift a finger into the air. “Because you’re a Fellian. “ Another finger. “Because you’re the enemy of Lios and I am a Lios princess.” A third finger. “Because you’re a man, and men always want something from women.”