Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Before I could even wonder about the potential of dying of exposure, I was asleep.
Except, I didn’t feel like it was right to call it simply ‘sleep.’
I was unconscious. Maybe just shy of comatose. My body needing something deeper than rest to recover.
It was a scream that pulled me out of those inky depths, but the claws of unconsciousness clung to me even as I fought toward consciousness, suddenly aware of my exposure, my vulnerability.
I blinked at the near darkness, confused at whether it was just moments or many hours since I’d first fallen down on the forest floor, too exhausted even to crawl to my car.
One look at the sky told me that I’d been asleep for something like ten or twelve hours.
Yet as I sat up, there was still an alarming heaviness in my limbs, a soreness in all my muscles.
What was wrong with me?
Why wasn’t sleep reviving me?
Even if I was using my shadow more frequently, it made no sense that sleep wasn’t making me feel rested.
I sat there for a long moment, wallowing in my misery, dangerously close to tears, when another scream tore through the woods, ripping into my chest, slicing my heart.
Because I knew who was making that sound.
And what anguish he must have been enduring to make a sound like that.
On a whimper of my own, I forced myself to my feet, dragging myself through the woods, not even bothering with my shadow cloak, not wanting to drain myself anymore, which would make me useless to Daemon.
By the time I made it back to the clearing near the estate, I could see the shadows of the gods making their way out of the cellar, their heads thrown back in laughter, their fingers, faces, and clothing saturated with blood.
Daemon’s blood.
I didn’t even wait until the gods were inside the estate with their party raging.
I wrapped my shadows around me and flew at the door, all thoughts of my own pain and tiredness forgotten.
The steps were slippery under my feet. Looking down, I noticed in horror that they were slick with blood.
A strange, pained animal sound escaped me, thinking of the blood on the gods, now on the steps.
Had they drained him completely?
“Is that you… my… shadow girl?”
Daemon’s voice was small and weak, making my heart clutch in my chest.
Some part of me wanted to turn away, to save myself from having to witness his pain.
But I couldn’t do that.
He was hurt because of me.
The least I could do was witness his pain.
I sucked in a deep breath I immediately regretted as the metallic scent of his blood filled my nose.
My cloak fell away as I forced my feet forward. But it wasn’t until I was right in front of him that I finally forced my gaze to lift.
Then immediately wished I hadn’t.
If I thought he’d been brutalized the last time, I had been sorely mistaken.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said as my hand automatically lifted, thinking of nothing but giving him a break from the pain that had to be searing through damn near every inch of his body.
“You need to rest.”
“No,” he said, tone uncharacteristically sharp.
“You’re in pain.”
Because of me.
“I said no, sweetness.”
I couldn’t just stand there, doing nothing.
Suddenly, I knew what I could do to ease his pain.
My gaze slid to his battered face as I lowered myself to my knees.
CHAPTER NINE
Daemon
I thought I knew a thing or two about pain. Until, of course, those fucking gods got their hands on me.
I stayed shit-talking for a long while. As bones cracked. As blood flowed. As someone fucked with my mind.
I thought I’d been a pretty decent torturer. I spent eternity showing evil humans all the ways their bodies could hurt.
And still, these gods put me to shame.
Maybe that was because I did it for duty. They did it for pleasure.
They sure enjoyed the fuck out of doing unspeakable things to me, body and mind.
I didn’t even know I had that much blood in my veins. But it was all over me, them, the floor, the walls, everywhere.
Pain sparked off of every nerve ending, pulsed in my soft tissue, ached in my mind.
I knew it would fade, that I would heal. It was my nature.
But I was having a bit of a pity-me moment when I saw the shadows moving around the basement and knew I was no longer alone.
When her shadow cloak fell away, all I saw was how pale she looked, the veins under her skin shining through brightly, the bruises under her eyes saying she was still too tired.
Something was wrong with her. I wouldn’t pretend to know what, but she was wasting away day by day.
What was going to be left after another week?
Mine that voice in the back of my head grumbled, possessive, concerned.
It was why, when she lifted a hand to offer the only comfort she could give me—sleep—I refused. I couldn’t let her drain herself any more than she already had.