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)
“Muriel?” I said. “He was the one I heard Finn and Mickie speak of.”
“He was.”
I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. “And Finn? Mickie?” There was a beat of silence. “The fires? That’s where they ended up?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
I did. “How did you end up in the gardens?”
“I’d sent a message to Nathaniel to meet, knowing Muriel is never far from his brother,” he answered. “As luck would have it, this is where Nathaniel requested to meet.”
Then that had to mean the Hyhborn brothers were from Primvera.
“You said you liked those little balls of light?” he said, drawing me from my thoughts, and it took a moment for me to realize he was responding to what I’d said to him and Muriel. “I assume you were speaking of the sōls.”
“Souls?” I whispered, surprised enough to ask.
“Not souls of mortals.” That faint grin appeared again. “But sōls of all that is around you. The tree we sit beneath. The grass. The blooms of the wisteria currently in your hair.”
“Oh.” My hand lifted out of reflex. I ran my hand down my braid until I felt something soft and dewy. I pulled the petal free, cringing. “I didn’t know that.”
He chuckled again. The sound was still nice, which seemed completely at odds with, well, everything. “I’m sure the blossom was pleased to find itself being attached to such a lovely mortal. Though, I can think of far more interesting places I would’ve attached myself to.”
I blinked once.
Then twice.
And then my mind decided to take a quick jaunt where it shouldn’t go, conjuring up all those interesting places. A sudden aching twist curled deep in my stomach. I shifted on the grass, left unsteady by the intense pulse of desire— by yet another stark reminder of what he was.
“So, were you looking for the sōls?” the Lord questioned, lifting a hand. He made a soft humming noise— a gentle, melodic sound.
A heartbeat later, a buttery glow appeared in the tree above us, slowly descending through the branches and vines. Then another. And another. My lips parted. A little over a half dozen floated through the trees.
“You can call them to you?” I asked.
“Of course,” he answered. “We are a part of everything that surrounds us. They are a part of us.”
I watched as one of the sōls drifted above me. “They’re beautiful.”
“They appreciate you saying so.”
A brow rose. “They can understand me?”
“They can.” He lifted his chin, gesturing to one of the sōls. “See how their lights have grown brighter?”
I nodded.
“That’s how you know.”
“Oh.” My fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and touch one without the gloves, but I figured that was pushing it. I peeked at the Lord, wishing I could see more of his face. His eyes. But it was probably a blessing that I couldn’t at this point. “What . . . what is your name?”
“Thorne.”
There was a strange whooshing motion throughout my chest. After all these years, I finally had a name for him. I didn’t know how to think of that, but it felt strangely life-altering.
I cleared my throat. “I . . . I should probably be on my way.”
He inclined his head. “Probably.”
Relieved yet unnerved that he’d agreed, I rose.
“But I would be bereft if you did,” he added, and I seriously doubted that. “I have so many questions.”
I halted. “About?”
He stood so quickly, I hadn’t seen him move. One minute he was sitting and then he was standing. “About you, of course.”
My heart gave a sharp lurch. “There’s not much to know about me.”
“I cannot believe that’s true.” He was nearly in the shadows of the wisteria now, but somehow he seemed closer. “I’m willing to bet there is, starting with how we met.”
A fine shiver skated across the back of my skull and down my spine. The ground felt like it was shifting again. “How . . . how we met?”
“Tonight,” he clarified. “Is this how you normally spend your nights? Alone, chasing sōls when you’re not rescuing those in distress?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I normally don’t travel this part of the gardens at night.”
“But tonight was different.”
I nodded, once again deciding to err on the side of half truth. “I heard voices and was concerned that something bad might happen.”
“So you decided to intervene? Again?” The surprise was evident in his voice. “With no weapon, and still, apparently no knowledge of how to defend yourself?”
My lips pursed. “I suppose so.”
There was a moment of silence. “Once more, you’ve proven just how brave you are.”
“I just . . . I just did what I thought was right.”
“And that often takes the most bravery, doesn’t it?”
I nodded, telling myself I needed to shut down this conversation. There was a whole slew of reasons why. It had to be late, but I hesitated. . . .