Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“No.” A violent shake of her head. “I’ll only accept you, and only with limitations. I don’t trust new people.”
That, he understood. Still. “There will be times I cannot be with you. However, I can assure you those times will be few and quick. So. Do you agree or not? You’ll share with me everything I wish to know, when I wish to know it, and in return I’ll oversee your safety and security.”
Again, she brooded in silence. But it wasn’t long before she sagged, a position of defeat. “Very well, Majesty. You win. I’ll tell you what you wish to know.”
He’d won? Micah nearly belted out a victory shout. By some miracle, he contained himself. “Do it. Tell me.”
She steeled herself, as if expecting a blow. “I’ve spent time with humans between my sleeps. And the...belua. They feed off my energy. That’s how they stay alive. Sometimes they require so much energy, I’m forced to sleep to recover.” Her voice wobbled with shame.
So. A captive, after all, exactly as he’d suspected. Everything inside him softened. “Why not tell me the truth from the beginning?”
“Uh, did you hear the part where I said I do not trust new people?”
Her snippy tone drew the barest smile to the surface. “How did you escape the trees?”
“I awoke this morning, dealt with them, and flittered. Okay?” She scrubbed the dirt from her arms, and even her movements were snippy. “How else would I do it?”
“How did you deal with them? If you did. Spell it out for me.”
She didn’t miss a beat. Just scrubbed more dirt. “Now you demand an accounting of death and destruction? Why not let me freeze in peace?”
This girl had an answer for everything. “You awoke before this day. I know this. Saw this.” Sometimes, when he slept, he still heard her scream. “Yet you didn’t flitter off then. Why?”
Scrub, scrub, scrub. “I have flittered from them. Many times. They’ve always found me.”
Guilt pierced him. Yes, he should have searched harder for her. Longer. Never should’ve given up. Maybe she’d fought her way free and assumed she’d killed them. “You’re safe now. But why did you come to my camp? Did you seek me?” Dare he hope?
“No.” She hooked a lock of damp hair behind her ear, graceful and feminine. A spark of anticipation scorched him, and he gritted his teeth. There was no reason to feel such a thing. “I planned to acquire food and clothing, nothing more.” Cupping water in her hands, she splashed her face. “Can we end the interrogation already? I’ve shared more with you than anyone else—ever.”
The admission did something strange to his insides. How lonely she must have been throughout the centuries. A sentiment he understood all too well. “Tell me what you did to Kaysar the Unhinged One, and yes, we can end it. For now.”
“Very well.” Red peeked at him through her lashes as a hoarse, agonized whisper left her. “I murdered his parents.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
VIORI HUDDLED IN the frigid water, relatively clean, shaken to her core, and frozen to the bone. But stand, revealing the shape of her body to Micah, whose hawk eye tracked her movements? No. Already he held her at a massive disadvantage. He knew more about her than her brother!
To allay the king’s suspicions, she’d been forced to share some truths about her children, as well as her deepest shame. As perceptive as he was, he would’ve ferreted out a lie. Not that she would have told a lie, regardless. As a child, Kaysar had despised liars. The rumors and whispers she’d collected throughout the years suggested his hatred had only flourished as he’d aged.
Homesickness choked her. To be with him again...she would do anything.
Before childhood memories and unfulfilled dreams invaded, Viori focused on Micah. Kaysar’s enemy—her enemy.
The overconfident sovereign owned everything she required. Dry clothes that weren’t transparent. A store of food. Information.
He had an army at his beck and call. Incredible strength, even without the use of his glamara. For that matter, what glamara did he wield? And who was the real Micah? The boy who’d given her jewels? The warrior who’d fed her a feast and promised not to harm her? Or this one, the hardened king who pressed and pressed and pressed?
Whatever the answer, her strategy had become oh, so clear amid their conversation. Let him think he must protect her from Kaysar and “belua,” ensuring he remained as close to her as possible for as long as possible. Track his movements. Listen to gossip around the camp. Guarantee he never struck at Kaysar—not successfully, anyway. No need to flirt.
Part of her wished to kill Micah now, now, now. End the threat he presented while she had the chance. He would never see her coming...
But his demise would do her no good. Another tyrant would surely rise in his place, resuming the war against Kaysar. Probably Pops. Norok. The awful male would demand Viori’s immediate harm.