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)
“Well. I hope you’re happy,” she snipped at him. “Another piece of my heart just turned to stone.”
Happy? Far from it. “Surrender to me, and we’ll go home.” He held a tree limb out of her way, allowing her to take the lead for a moment. Home? The campground? Never. They belonged at the palace. Soon.
“How adorable. The king has jokes,” she retorted as he strode ahead.
His irritation soared to new heights. But so did his admiration. Vee’s sense of survival was strong. Something he admired about her. So why was he attempting to break her?
Elena and Sabot held their silence and even that was irritating. Micah was tempted to insist they return to camp. Very tempted. There were ways to make them eager to obey. But he owed his spy.
She’d learned Kaysar and Cookie were keeping a secret from Pearl Jean and King Jareth, their allies, who were keeping a secret of their own. What those secrets were, Micah didn’t yet know. But petty arguments constantly broke out among the foursome. A point in his favor. Loyalties could be tested and broken.
What’s more, Elena had stolen an artifact from the Unhinged Ones. A powerful stone able to generate an impenetrable dome around a small area. She’d hidden it in camp before coming to find Micah, and he wanted the thing always guarded. But he wanted Vee guarded more, so he contained his insistence.
As he passed a particularly eye-catching tree, the trunk snagged his attention. Words, carved in the center. Three words to be exact. He read them and barked out an unexpected laugh.
The laugh surprised his companions. Elena and Sabot palmed weapons, scanning for hazards.
Vee gaped at him. “Really, Micah. Must you act so undignified in front of my lowly subjects?”
Elena garbled out a choked response. “Your subjects?”
He proceeded without thought, ignoring the spy and slinging an arm around his wife’s waist to pull her to his side. With his free hand, he pointed to the words. “Graves left us a message.”
“He did? He’s okay then?” Relief coated her tone. “Wait. He can read and write? But...that’s impossible! Isn’t it? I mean, he shouldn’t know more than—my other children.” For some reason, hot color darkened her cheeks. “Well? What does it say? As you can see, his handwriting is deplorable.”
No, it wasn’t. And why was she so embarrassed? Unless...
Ahhhh. She couldn’t read, could she? But then, when would she have had a chance to learn?
Sympathy superseded his buffet of other emotions, directing him to kiss her cheek. “Graves says no. That’s the entire missive.”
“What does that even mean?” Elena piped up.
Both Micah and Vee ignored her.
“Why, that little brat,” his wife huffed.
Micah nearly barked a second laugh, another baffling turn. To find amusement in anything concerning a belua? The horror. And yet, much of his tension drained.
He kept his arm around his wife as he led her forward, saying, “Now you know how I feel.”
“He takes after you, and I’ll hear no arguments about it. I am so angry,” Vee fumed, stomping at his side. “With you. With Graves. Especially with Graves. But mostly with you. I give and I give and I give, and this is the thanks I get?”
“So you know how I feel.”
“I... You... Oh! When is our next meal?” she snapped. “I’m starving.”
At least her appetite had reignited. He reached into the satchel he carried, searching for the piece of sweetcake he’d saved. He’d found a small satchel along the way, filled with a multitude of delicacies. Left by Graves or Cookie, Micah didn’t know.
Elena beat him to it, slapping a sweetcake she had saved into Vee’s hand and grumbling, “Do you ever stop eating?”
“Next time bow when you serve your cherished queen,” Vee told the spy with a snotty tone—while chewing on her second bite. Crumbs sprayed from the corners of her mouth.
Females. He might never understand them. Though the rancor between the pair had died, they continued to snip at each other.
He looked back to catch Sabot’s eye and share a moment of understanding. Or tried to. As Elena sputtered with indignation, Sabot stared at her, his lips curved into a smile.
Was anyone sane anymore?
The sloshy pathway steered him to a patch of dry land surrounded by massive stones. Dry land intermixed with wet, one ringed by the other, with a stone altar in the center. One of Vee’s beds?
The familiar sight arrested Micah, the procession stopping behind him. The pulling he’d endured for days suddenly faded, a hated and beloved memory surging to the fore. He would never forget the first look at his sleeping beauty, bathed in lightning, splattered in raindrops. Or the way different desires had singed him. Desires he’d never shed. Buried, yes. For a short while. But permanently cast off? No. With each of his mistresses—all redheads—he’d attempted to replace her. A truth so obvious now.