Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
I ordered myself to turn around, but that wasn’t what I was doing.
Inching forward, I gritted my teeth. There was nothing wrong with not wanting to get involved, I told myself. It didn’t make me a bad person. I’d proved that last night. Besides, what was I going to do to stop whatever was about to happen? Grady had taught me how to throw a pretty mean right hook, but I didn’t think that was going to be of much help.
“And I don’t like the accusations you’re making either,” the man continued. “Nor will he, and you should be concerned by that. You’re not untouchable, despite what you think.”
Knocking a wisteria vine aside, I plowed forward—
A dryly amused chuckle answered, causing tiny goose bumps to break out along my bare arms. That sound . . .
My eyes went wide as my foot immediately snagged on an exposed root. “Fuck,” I gasped, stumbling. I planted a hand on the rough bark of a nearby tree, catching myself before I planted my face into the ground.
Silence.
Utter complete silence surrounded me as I slowly lifted my head, face burning. I started to speak— to say what, I had no idea, because every single thought fled my mind as I saw two men standing beneath those damn spheres of light that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere to bear witness to my absolute fuckery. They both had turned toward me, and I zeroed in on the one my senses warned against.
He was blond and pale-skinned. Tall and attractive, his features so perfectly crafted that one would believe they’d been carved by the gods themselves, and I knew what that meant before I saw what was strapped to his hip. My blood immediately went cold at the sight of the dull, milky white of a lunea blade.
I didn’t know what shocked me more— that my intuition had actually worked with something that involved Hyhborn or that it had led me to . . . to him.
Fingers tangled in the vines, I could feel my heart pumping icy shock through my veins as my gaze shot to the other man, and I knew. I knew the moment I heard the soft, smoky chuckle.
Air leaked out of my lungs. He was standing mostly in the shadows and wearing all black. He would’ve blended into them if not for the glimpses of sandy-hued skin. I thought I might’ve forgotten how to breathe as he stepped more fully into the soft light of the orbs. I was sure the ground rolled beneath my feet.
It was him.
My Hyhborn lord.
The hard, carved line of his jaw tilted as his wide, lush lips curved into a half grin. “This is becoming a habit.”
“What is?” I heard myself whisper.
His features fell back into the shadows. “Meeting like this.”
“Who in the fuck is this?” the other Hyhborn demanded, jerking my attention back to him.
“I’m n-no one. I . . . I just was following the little balls of light— I like the balls . . . of light,” I blurted out, and my entire brain cringed. I like the balls? Gods. Untangling my fingers from the wisteria, I started to take a step back. “Sorry, please just forget that I was here— that I even exist.”
A slice of moonlight cut across the lower half of my Hyhborn’s face— and gods, he wasn’t mine. His grin had deepened. “One moment, please.”
The “please” stopped me.
Because a Hyhborn lord, even him, saying that? To me? A low-born? That was . . . that was unheard of. He hadn’t even said that last night, when he asked for my help.
Then everything happened so fast.
The other Hyhborn cursed, darting backward as he withdrew the lunea dagger, but the other lord was faster. He caught the Hyhborn by the wrist and twisted. The crack of bone was like thunder. I smacked my hand over my mouth, silencing a scream.
The Hyhborn hissed in pain as the blade fell to the ground. “You do this”— his lips peeled back— “you’ll regret it. With your very last breath, you will.”
“No, Nathaniel,” the Lord replied, and he sounded bored. Like Grady did whenever I started to talk about the different types of daisies. “I will not.”
I caught only a glimpse of the Lord’s fist. Just a second before it slammed against the Hyhborn’s chest— into his chest.
The one called Nathaniel threw his head back, his body jerking as my hand fell from my mouth.
“Just one more moment,” the Lord said, rather casually.
Golden fire erupted from Nathaniel’s chest— or from the Lord’s hand, which was still plunged deep inside said chest. The fire spread over Nathaniel in a rippling, violent wave of vibrant gold flames, and I suddenly knew exactly how the blacksmith’s and the Twin Barrels had been incinerated. Within a few heartbeats, all that remained of Nathaniel was . . . was a pile of ash and a few strips of charred clothing beside the fallen lunea blade.