Total pages in book: 207
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
“Don’t be a fool,” Soleil cried out when she saw Wilbur move closer and closer towards the eerie-looking mist. “You know there’s a possibility you won’t be able to come back—-”
Wilbur faced her, demanding bitterly, “And what do you propose otherwise? That I go back and await justice?” He shook his head wildly. “You don’t know what it means to be like me! Living in the fringes, always having to kiss people’s arses! Everyone thinks you’re all bloody heroes, the great defenders of the city, when you’re just like everyone else,” he spat. “You’re no different from the monsters beyond these woods. You’re worse, the way you treat those you think are too weak, too cowardly—-” He reached out for something behind him.
Soleil stiffened. Whatever he was about to pull out, she had a feeling it wasn’t good.
And when she saw what it was in Wilbur’s hand, she stiffened even more.
Unfortunately, her guess had been spot on.
This wasn’t good...at all.
He carried a gun, a modern contraption that was forbidden in Asphodel and the entire kingdom for that matter.
And the wraiths of the woods knew this, too.
She shook her head slowly. “Don’t do that.”
“Afraid?” Wilbur’s eyes had a crazed look to them. “Good.” He licked his lips, as if savoring the fear they both knew she was feeling. “I like seeing people like you sweat.”
When he raised the gun and pointed it at her, Soleil did start to sweat, not because she was afraid of him, but of the ghosts that were starting to stir around them. She could feel it in the cold bite of the wind that began to whip their skins, the way the leaves practically danced on the ground, and oh, when the mist behind Wilbur started to creep closer to him—-
Was he so lost in his anger that he couldn’t feel they were being haunted this very second?
She said between tightly clenched teeth, “Don’t. Do. It.”
He cocked the gun.
Soleil paled. “You’re going to kill both of us if you do that.”
Wilbur’s maniacal laughter made Soleil back away.
“How much of a bloody idiot do you think I am? Is this gun pointed at me?”
Hopeless, she thought, and backed up another step.
“You’re the one who’s going to die. Bitch.” He started to pull the trigger.
She spun around and ran.
Behind her, a terrifying sound pierced the night, but it wasn’t the sound of the gun going off. It was Wilbur, screaming for his life, but she didn’t look back, didn’t even think of saving him.
There was no point.
Once the wraiths wanted you dead, you were.
She ran as fast as she could, but she could still feel the mist coming at her heels, threatening to overtake her. When its icy, invisible fingers brushed against her back, she knew it was inevitable, but still she ran, her breath lodged in her throat—-
Ice encased her.
She screamed, instinctively covering her face to ward off any attack, but nothing happened, and the sound of her scream also remained trapped inside of her. It was as if everything was commanded by the wraiths, even the very way her body functioned.
Soleil screamed and screamed, but still not a sound went past her lips.
Everything was so very silent.
Too, too silent.
Slowly, she lowered her hands, and Soleil gulped when she saw how much the world had changed. Everything felt darker, more oppressive, and the silence made it worse. The trees glaring down at her seemed endlessly tall, their claw-like branches innumerable as they reached for her—-
Soleil pinched herself hard.
No, this wasn’t real.
But even so, she couldn’t stop from moving instinctively, crawling away from the branches that kept coming towards her.
A feeling of abandonment struck her just as she heard a baby’s cry piercing the air.
Another infant, thrown away by a parent because it was imperfect—-
Her throat tightened—-
No.
Soleil’s mind desperately clung to reality.
This wasn’t happening.
This wasn’t real.
This was an illusion.
But even so, long-buried feelings of abandonment kept flowing out of her, turning into ropes of despair that wrapped itself around her neck, tightening, choking her—-
Soleil began to panic. Illusion or not, this felt too real. She was going to die—-
Snap out of it!
The voice came out of nowhere, furious, but underlying it was concern and fear – for her.
Her heart leapt in recognition.
It was the Marquis of Lunare.
The wolf whose heart she was fated to keep.
“I-Ilie?”
Who else?
She searched her surroundings for any sign of his presence, but all she could see was more and more branches that were just waiting to break her bones and tear her apart.
“I c-can’t see you,” Soleil choked out. “I can’t breathe, I’m feeling...”
And then she realized what this was.
It was not an illusion.
It was real.
It was her curse...killing her.
“Ilie,” she screamed. She was going to die. She really was going to die.
You know this isn’t real—-
“You don’t understand,” Soleil sobbed. More shameful sobs tried to rush out of her throat, but she did her best to swallow them back down. “I know w-what I’m seeing isn’t real, but what I’m feeling is. I’m going to die—-” Because she was cursed. He didn’t know it, and that’s why he didn’t believe her.