Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 857(@200wpm)___ 686(@250wpm)___ 572(@300wpm)
Lorcan bristled. “Saoirse would only go to the Fae council if you deserved it.”
“What did you do to her?” Kierse gasped.
“She lied to me!” he roared. “I nursed her to health, and I fell in love with her, and she never revealed her true character. I didn’t know she was a will-o’-the-wisp until right before she’d stolen my magic and fled.”
“Because you intended to kill her,” Graves said as if seeing it all painted before him.
He pointed his finger. “And then you had the audacity to have me train one of those monsters. We are meant to be the highest thing on the food chain. That you associate with something that could kill you by nature is detestable. They’re all better off dead.”
Bram shook his head. “Someone with that power always wants more.”
“That’s the entire point of the treaty,” Kierse gasped, her heart shattering at his callousness. “We’re all supposed to be able to work together.”
“And how well is that working?” Kingston asked. “Way I see it, the monsters have it right. Conquer whoever is beneath you and let them fend for themselves.”
Kierse was disgusted. Her species was dead because one man had been spurned by a Fae. All of this for his own sick vendetta and need to be on top.
“And the mourning rites you performed when I showed up to ask you about Saoirse’s death,” Graves said. “Was that to throw me off the trail?”
“It worked.” Kingston turned to Lorcan with a wry smile. “I did love her, even when I killed her.”
Lorcan roared as he drew the Sword of Truth from its sheath. It shined and glistened in the soft, gold glow. The beautiful and dangerous sword that once belonged to Nuada, the first high king of the Tuatha de Danann, shone in Lorcan’s hands like a torch in the night. A promise that it was wielded by its intended user.
He pointed the sword under Kingston’s jaw, who lifted his head to meet Lorcan’s furious expression with one of disdain. “And now it’s your turn.”
“Regretfully, I understand your motives for Saoirse,” Graves said, holding his hand up to stall Lorcan.
Lorcan whirled his head around. “You understand the death of my wife?”
Graves continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “But all of them? It went far beyond self-preservation to become the Fae Killer.”
Kingston growled. “They got what was coming to them. Whoever did it.”
Andrew looked alarmed and took a step back from Kingston. His hands shook as he held aloft the papers Graves had shown. “Dallas…Dallas says you did it.”
“Dallas deserved what came to her, too,” Kingston said like a man possessed. He’d never had to justify his actions to anyone for so long. That he didn’t even look to Andrew as he brushed aside his concerns.
But it was Andrew’s look of horror that solidified for Kierse. “Is that why you never let me come with you?” he asked with a soft voice. “I was your muse while you killed anyone else who got in your way?”
“Andrew, keep your mouth shut,” Kingston snarled.
Andrew looked hurt and took another step back as he clutched at his chest.
“We don’t have to do this,” Lorcan said. “Enough is enough. The Sword of Truth will reveal what he has done.”
Lorcan had suggested that it would be a way to get the truth from Kingston, but some part of her had expected Kingston to deny it. For them to need the sword to show his guilt. But Kingston looked at the sword with repugnance.
“There was a reason your people were conquered by the Romans, Druid,” Kingston declared. “As with all inferior populations, they eventually get subsumed by the greater species. The warlock-wisp truce was a monstrosity as much as this Monster Treaty is.”
“Is Kingston the Fae Killer?” Lorcan said, brandishing the sword toward Kingston, who sputtered in fury.
“What do you mean, the Fae Killer?” Kingston snarled.
But then the sword was speaking not just in Lorcan’s mind, but all assembled as if the power of the question wrapped around them all.
“The truth is known and affirmative. He is a Fae killer.”
“See!” Lorcan roared.
Kierse’s hand went to her heart. Bram choked from the other side of the room. He, too, must have heard the declaration. Graves’s gloved hand went to her back to fortify her. Here was her vengeance. Here was justice.
And yet she ached at the thought. The world would be better off without a murderer who had survived hundreds of years with unfathomable magic. But it wouldn’t bring her parents back.
It wouldn’t bring any of her kind back. She was still the last one.
All of it ran through her mind in the same instant that Kingston roared, his persuasion ripping free of his body and slamming into the ruby at Graves’s chest all at once. “You will heed me!”
Everyone staggered under the onslaught of Kingston’s immense power. Kierse and Bram were thrown to the ground, Lorcan was shoved several feet back with the sword hanging in limbo before him, and Kingston’s magic pressed against Graves’s will. The brunt of Kingston’s anger and magic all on him at once was a hurricane of power. It flooded the room, drowning everyone in the scent of paint and rust, as if his hands were drenched in blood.