Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
The darkness of the hallway swallowed them, almost no light with which to see by. Then they turned a corner, and a white glow surrounded a black object, the edges stained purple. A curtain.
The guards didn’t slow as they reached it. An unseen hand pulled the curtain back, and the light flared brightly. She squinted as her eyes adjusted and quickly looked around. Nobles in their finery lounged in their seats, little smirks pulling at their lips when they saw her.
“The human,” someone whispered as she passed.
“She won’t last a moment.”
The king sat on his dais, leaning against the arm of his throne. His eyes shone with interest. The princess’s eyes hardened, hate fueling her gaze.
Daisy tucked away her thoughts so they couldn’t eavesdrop.
Splatters and splotches of blood marred the pristine floor along her path, slick when stepped on. At the center of the room, where the nobles usually spun and twirled to the music, pools of crimson shone in the brightly lit space.
Tarian watched her approach with somber eyes. He leaned his elbow against the arm of his couch, his fingers lightly touching his jaw.
The guards shoved her forward. Her foot hit the slick edge of the puddle and slipped, throwing off her weight.
She could’ve stabilized herself. She could’ve bent her legs, centered her balance, and slid into the center. But that would’ve hinted at her skill.
Instead, she let her weight keep going, gravity dragging her down. Her arm hit the floor and her hand thunked, jostling her. She cried out in alarm, in disgust, her face a horrified mask of fear as she flailed within the evidence of death. Blood coated her clothes and covered some of her weapons. It matted her hair and wet the side of her face.
Shaking and distraught, she climbed to her feet amid uproarious laughter. Fae slapped their thighs and bent over in their mirth.
She looked sheepish as she caught movement from the side. A tall male stepped into view, wearing furred briefs. A leather strap across his torso held a serrated blade, and a ponytail with wavy hair fell down his back. Corded muscle rippled as he moved. Each step held power…but lacked balance. He was a warrior, but not a good one. Not of the caliber she was used to.
Magic curled around him. It swirled through the room and dusted the floor at his feet. She established a connection with it as his gaze raked over her. He sneered, not bothering to reach for his knife.
She quickly, and with shaking hands, grabbed for hers. Not her magical knife, though. No. A throwing knife, which she held as though it were a dagger. She bent her knees and braced, slipping and sliding as she tried to back away from his advance.
And the Oscar goes to…
She could feel Tarian’s confusion. She was even fooling him. Well done, Daisy.
The hard part would be winning while making it seem like an accident. She’d never done that before.
Do not take any chances, Tarian warned.
Yeah, yeah.
“Do not kill the human,” the king said as the other champion stopped at the edge of the bloody puddle. She noticed his feet had extra tread for traction. Her shoes were smooth soled, the ones Tarian had chosen switched out before being led out here. They’d given her lot a disadvantage from the start. “But you may break her into pieces if you wish.”
Tarian rubbed his fingers across his lips. He didn’t comment, but his eyes burned. He was not amused.
She had no idea why not.
Her lip trembled. She edged around the puddle until she was opposite her attacker. Her magic started siphoning his slowly. She then had to release it from her body, because her vessel was full. This was just practice and to see if taking from him would weaken him. It should, but how quickly? She hadn’t tested that while fighting yet.
“Commence,” a voice boomed.
The male didn’t hurry. He walked across the pool of blood like he had all the time in the world.
She looked around her like a frightened rabbit and thought of all the ways this could go. The male nearly reached her—she hurried out of the way. He followed her without a change in expression. It was almost like he was trudging after a petulant child who, when caught, was going to get dragged to the naughty corner.
She avoided him one more time, licked her lips as she looked back at Tarian furtively, then darted forward with her throwing knife. The male stopped, waiting for her, and she “tripped” when she drew close. She fell, slid, and crashed into his legs.
He reached down for her, not as fast as she’d expected or maybe not really trying. She slapped at his hands with one hand, screamed, and struck upward with her knife in the melee. The blade lodged home…right into his ballsack.