Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
After another minute, Kerrigan landed in a heap in a meadow, covered in bodies and blood. She coughed to try to expel the rank stench all around her. But she had only a second to recover before a horse nearly trampled her. She screeched and then whirled out of the way.
Fear pricked her as she remembered what Cleora had said. If she died here, she died in the real world. There was no coming back from this. And she was on a battlefield.
Fordham had mentioned that he had gone to battle in the meadow before Ravinia Mountain, where the House of Shadows resided. It was the one stretch of land that Mei’s curse had afforded them, and the three warring factions of the tribe took to this meadow to handle disputes. It was one thing to know that and another to be in the center of another battle. She was still recovering from the horror of the Battle of Lethbridge. She couldn’t imagine Fordham dealing with that on top of this. And doing it all alone.
She found him then in the melee, covered in black armor, atop an enormous, armored horse. He clashed against another male, and they fell from their mounts.
Kerrigan avoided another scuffle, picking up a sword from the ground to defend herself and activating her magical shield. The longer she was in this battle the more Cleora’s warning about dying in a dream meaning death in the real world felt all too close to reality.
Fordham came again to his feet, a towering form against his opponent. His helmet had been crushed at his collapse, and he wrenched it free as he approached the other man. They began a deadly battle as Kerrigan fended off dream opponents.
She wanted to leave this place, but she was anchored to the dream. As if Fordham had recognized her presence and clung to her for dear life.
“No,” she screamed as his opponent thrust a sword toward the opening in Fordham’s armor.
One second, Fordham was there, ready to be impaled, and the next, he dissolved into black shadow and appeared behind the male a second later.
“No,” the male cried. “You don’t have your father’s gifts.”
Fordham was winded, but his smile was deadly. “It appears that I do.”
His eyes glittered with victory as he plunged his sword through the male’s back.
The first time he’d used his shadow magic was on the battle to take another’s life. Fortunate but tragic.
Kerrigan yanked on the bond, trying to escape again, but she could do nothing as she was plunged into darkness.
This time, she landed in a stable. Tieran was saddled and ready to depart beside Fordham’s dragon, Netta. Her stomach dropped. Kerrigan remembered this memory well. She had been there for this one. They had been fleeing Belcourt to her home, Waisley, for dragon training. A decision she had made to avoid March, but he had stopped them before they could depart.
She watched March appear out of the shadows. Saw through Fordham’s eyes as March removed her riding gloves and slid an engagement ring on her finger.
“There,” March said with a self-satisfied smirk. “You always deserved a ring, and now, we are properly engaged.”
Fordham bristled in a way that he hadn’t before, even when his lover died or he killed a man on the battlefield. He looked ready to remove March’s head from his shoulders. Kerrigan had never seen this from his perspective. Had never known how furious he was at the prospect. Just her own fury and horror ringing in her ears.
March flashed a smug look to Fordham. “Take care of my fiancée, will you?”
“Oh, I will,” Fordham snarled. His hands were clenched into fists.
It was a miracle he hadn’t slaughtered him right then and there. That he hadn’t used those dark shadows and slid a sword into March’s back just as he had those many years earlier on the battlefield. But this was a different sort of battle, and he just reigned in his rage.
March knew precisely what he was doing. He knew the anger roiling through Fordham. He’d stoked that fire on purpose. It was obvious on his face.
“Don’t say a word,” dream Kerrigan snapped.
She hadn’t wanted to deal with any of it. But she saw the hurt on Fordham’s face that she hadn’t wanted to look for. It was so obvious then that he was in love with her. That the curse was twisting him up. Had she been the only one not to notice until it was too late?
Then, dream Fordham looked to her, and his brow furrowed. “Kerrigan?”
She wanted to walk to him. To press a kiss to his lips and promise him that it would all work out. A promise that she couldn’t keep. She shouldn’t be here any longer. If this was a nightmare, then altering what had happened that day would be nothing but cruelty on top of his heartache.