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)
“I’m Lavina.” Though the other woman was inches shorter than Viori, she somehow excelled at looking down upon her. “Do you prefer to be called Red, Vee or Spy Worthy Only of Execution? Norok—my dear husband—has referred to you as each.”
Norok belonged to this poor woman? Norok. As in Pops? The flirt who’d cozied up to a servant in the middle of camp? Wow. Disgust nearly choked Viori. A husband willing to betray his wife, a confidante he had vowed to love and cherish above all others, could be trusted by no one. Deceive one, deceive all. A traitor was a traitor, no exceptions.
Did Lavina know? If not, she should. “You may call me anything you like,” she replied with an airy tone. “Allow me to offer my humblest apologies for not recognizing you as Norok’s beloved spouse.” Viori smiled sweetly. “Considering I spotted him in the arms of someone else only minutes ago.”
Hurt contorted the other woman’s face before fury took over. With a huff, she spun on her heel and marched off.
New sparks of guilt flared, rousing a more conspicuous surge of irritation. Kaysar’s enemies are my enemies.
“I love my brother,” Elena said, “but there’s no denying he’s a whore. Feel sorry for Lavina, however? No. She understood the consequences when she trapped him into their sham of a marriage.”
Norok was this beauty’s sibling? “The wife isn’t wholly to blame.” The words emerged sharper than she’d intended. “Your brother had only to stay away from her to avoid a wedding.”
Elena glowered at her, but grunts and groans from the field grew louder, ending the conversation.
Viori’s gaze shot to Micah of its own accord. He was staring at her again. Her, not Elena. A hand fluttered to her racing heart, and he took a single step toward her. Norok rammed into him, tossing him to the ground.
Viori’s first instinct? To laugh. Her second wasn’t so innocent. Pops dared? Why, she would tear his heart from his chest and feed the organ to the birds! She—
The other woman cleared her throat, now that the noise had died down, drawing Viori’s attention anew.
As if sensing her intentions to cause harm, Elena leveled her with an expression of pure malice. “Micah is the most honorable male I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. Loyal to the extreme. Honest. Hardworking and kind. I know he radiates a terrible ferocity, his presence making you wish to peel your skin from your body. But he deserves only the best.”
Terrible ferocity? Peeling skin? What?
“He’s a good man,” she persisted, more intense by the moment. “The best. I love him, and I take great pleasure in eliminating any threats against him. Just as he takes great pleasure in eliminating any threats against me. Against his people.”
A definite warning. But so what? Invisible armor buffed and shined, Viori puffed up her chest. Squared her shoulders. And not because of the implied insult—as if she wasn’t the best. Not even because she cared that the blonde might have a romantic relationship with Micah. She didn’t. Not the slightest bit. Pleasure each other with my highest compliments. No, threats against her and those she considered hers were not to be borne. Not now, not ever. The speaker must suffer. Always. And yet, her hands were currently tied. Harming the blonde would merely paint her in a bad light.
Cage the rage. For now.
For Kaysar.
Before any retorts spilled from Viori’s tongue without permission, she sealed her lips shut and offered her choicest nontoothy smile. And yes, it felt brittle. “What Micah is or isn’t has no bearing on the situation.” Except it...might. To earn this kind of unwavering loyalty from another...
What if he was honorable? The first of his kind—a noble fae? Someone maybe, perhaps, possibly worth...keeping. A companion to lean and rely on. A friend. Something she’d secretly desired the whole of her existence. The reason she’d fallen for Laken.
For so long, she had believed such a mythical creature extinct. However, evidence to the contrary was stacking up. Micah hadn’t harmed her. Hadn’t touched her during her weakest moments. Instead, he’d fed her without complaint. Given her shelter, clothing and comfort. Guarded her. Helped her, as well as the older fae, a mere servant.
Could Viori truly destroy such a being, much less part with him? For Kaysar, yes. But what if she didn’t need to?
She returned her gaze to Micah. Air lodged in her nostrils. He was staring at her again.
A flush infiltrated her cheeks, and her heart stuttered in her chest. A strange pliability spread. If he was honorable...what would she do then?
CHAPTER NINE
THE WEEK ROLLED on with startling speed, yet Viori was no closer to discerning the truth about Micah’s honor. Or lack thereof. Her nerves were frayed at best.
As promised, he never strayed from her side. On the other hand, he avoided any place of importance, refusing to give her a tour of the most innocent of places, like the centaur stables. Refusing to touch her. Why, why, why?