Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“Why did they want me?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“To make a point,” he replied, his jaw tightening. “I knew you were in danger. I shouldn’t have let you leave the lodge.”
The weight of his words pressed against her, heavy and unyielding. She looked down at her hands, her fingers trembling. “To make a point?” Why would anybody take her to make a point?
“They know you’re mine,” he said, his voice firm. “If they kill you, they kill me.”
The raw honesty in his tone left her breathless. She leaned back in her seat, her mind racing. Despite all his strength, his power, he wasn’t invincible. If he had a weakness, it was her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lyrica huddled at her desk, a space heater from the new shipment blasting at her feet. No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to get warm. Outside her office door, two guards stood at attention, while Vero busily tortured Coron for information in some underground cell. Vero thought there were six members of the cell who wore the weird symbol, and with four dead, that left two—Coron and someone unknown. For now.
Which one of them was attacking human females?
She had discovered an unopened box of tea and deemed it safe to drink. More of the Kurjans had fallen ill, and Fizzlewick still hadn’t identified the source of the poisoned food. Even the chef had succumbed. At this point, they couldn’t be sure if the poisoning was accidental—or something far more sinister.
Taking another sip, her mind scattered and refused to focus. She set the mug down and stared at her computer console, deciding to take a chance. Dialing up Hope, she waited, and soon her friend’s face appeared on the screen.
“Hey.” Hope’s voice sounded bright, though her sharp blue eyes immediately searched Lyrica’s expression. “Vero called Paxton earlier about the illness and about your near kidnapping. Are you okay?”
“I’m not physically ill, but my mind is spinning,” Lyrica admitted, her words tumbling out before she could think. “Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it. Vero is such a good guy. He gave up the crown for Paxton, supports him every way he can. He’s selfless. Loyal. But—” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I thought I could save him. God, I feel so stupid.”
“Who says you can’t?” Hope replied, her cheerfulness intact, though her gaze turned serious.
Lyrica’s chest tightened as the memories clawed at her. “You didn’t see him kill. It was…terrifying.” She hesitated before lowering her voice. “I think it was because of me.”
“Oh, it was absolutely because of you,” Hope said matter-of-factly.
Lyrica blinked. “Hey, you’re supposed to make me feel better, not worse.”
“Nope.” Hope grinned, shaking her head. “I’m here to give you the truth, not coddle you. You’re in danger because you’re his mate. That’s how it works.”
“Remind me not to put myself in danger again,” Lyrica muttered.
Hope snorted. “Yeah, believe me, I’ve been there.”
Lyrica studied her friend through the screen, noting the worn expression softened only by her easy smile. “You really do get it, don’t you? Paxton would tear the world apart for you, wouldn’t he?” Like actually and not figuratively do it.
Hope’s smile faded into something quieter, a little heavier. “Yes, he would.”
Before today, such devotion had sounded romantic, almost poetic. Now, Lyrica understood the brutal reality behind those words.
“Vero would never hurt you, though,” Hope added gently. “You know that, right?”
Lyrica exhaled shakily. “Yes. I do know that. But I don’t know if…”
“If what?”
“How can I love someone who kills like that?” Lyrica stared down at her tea.
Hope leaned back, her own expression shifting. “Ah. That.” She rubbed at her temple. “Yeah, I get it. You grew up human, not among immortals who are always at war, so it’s a lot to take in. But…what would you do to protect him?”
The question hit harder than Lyrica expected. She reached for her tea blindly, taking a sip while her mind spun. “I guess…I’d defend him.”
Hope nodded. “There’s your answer. That’s what you do for the people you love.”
“We haven’t talked about love,” Lyrica admitted, her voice soft. “I don’t know how he feels about—well, any of this.”
Hope held up her hand, her palm bruised. “I doubt he knows how to talk about feelings. You might have to lead him on that one.”
Lyrica’s gaze sharpened. “Wait, why is your hand bruised?”
“I was sparring with Collin,” Hope said with a shrug. “I just haven’t bothered to send any healing cells to it yet.”
Lyrica’s lips quirked. “I have to ask—does everything taste amazing to you? Like, is food just beyond excellent?”
Hope snickered. “I don’t know. But I don’t like broccoli.”
“Huh. Now I want to try some to see if I like it,” Lyrica mused, half to herself.
Her thoughts drifted to earlier, to the way she’d offered her wrist without hesitation. Vero could have drained her dry, and she’d have let him, just to make sure he healed from that bullet wound. “He got shot in the face,” she murmured. “He killed one immortal for me, knocked another out like it was nothing.”