Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Hello, Clover.” Not quite as tall as Viktor but equally muscled, he painted an imposing picture. Like many of the other warriors, he’d opted to go shirtless, letting those solid gold wings arch over his shoulders freely. A hooked horn grew from each joint. Black leathers covered his tree trunk thighs. Metal spikes protruded from his combat boots. The perfect complement for the numerous weapons strapped to his powerful body.
“Where’s my sister?” I demanded, tightening my hold on the hilt of the blade.
“Not here,” he said, speaking in Hungarian as he stopped just out of reach. “Nor is Viktor, I see. Too bad. I so look forward to killing you in front of him. Well, no matter. I’ll relay a message instead.”
“Ah. Is the big, bad birdie still jealous that his second-in-command is stronger, more powerful, and so much hotter?” I infused each word with enough taunt to irritate even the most patient of souls.
His smug expression never altered, but ripples of irritation swept over the feathers in his wings. “Tune your ears. My message is dire–for you. Four of Viktor’s elite decided to join me rather than die at my hand. I’ll be unleashing them in the morning, letting them hunt you.”
Four? So. They’d traded their honor to keep their lives. That was gonna hurt Viktor badly, whether or not he admitted it. Especially if Bodi was among the four. Was he?
Deco continued with his taunts. “If your precious sentinel king wishes to save your life, he must come out of hiding to do it.”
Viktor wasn’t in hiding. No way, no how. He was an attack first and question later kinda guy. Which meant, what? Nothing good, that much I knew.
But no. Absolutely no harm had come to him. He was fine.
My hand curled into a fist. He better be fine.
“You’re lying to me. Trying to break me down.” My dream pointed to a future event. Therefore, Viktor still lived.
“I never lie sometimes,” Deco replied, nonchalant.
Anger uncoiled in each of my cells, and I snapped, “I believe you’re too afraid of hurting me to do the job yourself.”
What are you doing? Begging the villain to attack?
I didn’t know and wasn’t sure I cared. The words burst from my mouth before I could think better of them.
A fresh smile bloomed over the turul-king’s face. “Oh, sweet Clover. I can kill you, no problem. In fact, I’m eager to. Allow me to prove it.”
Blink. He stood directly in front of me, his fingers wrapped around my wrist, driving my dagger into the spot beneath my left clavicle. Searing pain exploded inside me, yanking a cry from my deepest depths.
Deco kissed my brow like a father to his daughter. “If I don’t get to witness Viktor’s anguish, I’ll be forced to live forever with regret. A fate I hope to avoid. But. If he’s a no show tomorrow, I’ll just have to ensure the horror of his firebrand’s death is a tale that haunts him for the rest of time. A worthy trade, I think. Ja, a worthy trade indeed.”
“You will pay for this.” I heaved the words between ragged breaths. Blood trickled from the corners of my mouth.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, galamb.”
“Pigeon?” I grated.
He booped my nose with the tip of an index finger, yanked out the dagger and tossed it aside before sauntering off, whistling under his breath. “By the way,” he called. “If you survive, you’re invited to a ball I’m hosting. It’s black tie and lasts until I’m no longer amused by it. Hope to see you there. RSVP if you can.”
My knees buckled, and I dropped. With a hoarse cry, I pulled off my shirt. A Herculean task. Hands trembling, I pressed the material into the wound to staunch the flow of blood. The cold helped. But.
What was I going to do?
Chapter
Fourteen
Rage On! Handling the Heat When Others Can’t
–HOW TO TRAIN YOUR BERSERKER
By Elizabeth “Elle” Darcy-Bruce
Icouldn’t stay here.
My brain screamed, Find Viktor. Yes, yes. Viktor. He was the difference maker, and he was alive. I refused to believe otherwise. Think about it. He’d survived centuries at war with the shifters; a rushing river didn’t have the power to end him. And he wouldn’t abandon me on purpose. He absolutely would not. Even though I’d spoken of running again.
My stomach twisted. What if he hoped to prove a point? Let me wander about on my own until I admitted how desperately I needed him.
No, that wasn’t his style. He liked to keep his “mine” close. There was a greater chance the vargbane root had screwed with his immortality.
Oh no! I’d forgotten about the root. What if he truly had died?
High octane trepidation and sorrow leaked from the cracks in my bottles. Tears welled and dropped, blurring my vision. Sniffling, I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Even the thought of being without Viktor shredded me.