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)
Daisy couldn’t go with the king. Not like this. Not without the ability to fight back properly. Not without a weapon!
Her body started to shake with very real fear. The kind of fear that spoke of the soul and not the body. That spoke of wounds worse than mortal wounds.
Help me, she wanted to shout. Please, Tarian, help me!
But she wouldn’t. He’d already said when it came to the king—when it came to the royal chambers—he could do nothing. Some battles she’d have to fight alone. Which had been fine…when it didn’t feel like a spiked hammer hit her in the ribs every time she fucking moved.
The royals sat to the sides, one of the males interested, the other picking at his nail. The queen swished her gown, not looking at Daisy. The king choosing a sex toy right in front of her had to be so demoralizing, though not as demoralizing as being that toy. The princess had a smug grin. She knew what the king planned to do—how he longed to break the human.
A teardrop of blood dripped out of the king’s left eye. His lids were hooded, lust burning brightly within.
Everything in her recoiled as she walked closer, then was dragged, not wanting to go. Not able to stomach this. Not able to save herself.
“No, please,” she begged. “Please.”
30
Daisy
The guards stopped in front of the dais, and the king stood. His robes swirled around his slippered feet. An item glittered in his hand.
The diamond chalice.
The river of diamonds within sparkled and shone, throwing the blood-red lights on the dais. The smooth surface had not one smudge, as though the king’s touch would never leave a lasting impression. It pulsed within her, sensing her. The white-hot light in her middle flared, pounding, spreading. It filled up her body and smoothed over her ribs, dulling the pain, reducing it to a fine point, and then washing it away entirely. Her fatigue from the sleepless night, her aching muscles from the battle—they washed away as well, leaving a pleasant smell of lavender in its wake.
A hand with unnatural, leathery skin reached for her, and she jerked her head away. Even that violent movement didn’t bring back the ache in her ribs. She nearly cried in relief, which would’ve joined the tears of pain from a moment ago. The tears of fear.
The fingers were cold and revolting when they grabbed her chin. Twisted magic crawled across her face and tried to seep into her flesh. He angled her face up toward him.
“You are such a beautiful little creature.” His breath smelled like mold and decay. Her stomach churned.
The chalice throbbed, so close to her. Power and strength pulsed in her middle, peeling back the effects of his magic. The feel of it.
The chalice had never reacted like this in the human world. It hadn’t called to her before being trapped in this kingdom. It sensed the danger she was in. Or maybe it sensed the danger Faerie was in from the twisted magic. One and the same.
His gaze stopped on her lips, and his fingertips slid from her chin to her neck, leaving a slimy trail in its wake. She shivered and couldn’t stop her eyes from filling with the hate she felt.
“I don’t think I have looked upon a daintier, prettier human that was also so deliciously fierce,” he said. “I can see now why Tarian protects you so viciously. He wants you all for himself.” The smile froze her heart. “Too bad he has no say in the matter.”
The fingers of one hand closed around her neck, squeezing. She wasn’t sure if he was collaring her or if he wanted to watch the life ebb out of her. His thumb pushed at her chin, forcing it to stay high and her to keep eye contact. His gaze was malicious and still sparkled brightly with lust.
She held her breath, not from the pressure, but because she wasn’t sure what he would do. Wasn’t sure if he might kill her.
In a moment, his fingers slackened. The touch drifted away.
“I am torn, however,” he said. His tongue glided along his unnaturally wrinkly lip. “I enjoy watching you fight. It is delightfully erotic, given the thoughts and desires it evokes. Maybe a private display…” He wavered in indecision. She could see it. Her future lay in the balance, teetering with him. Her knife was somewhere behind her, but she had others tucked about her person. They weren’t magical, but they were iron. Given she could move now, they would work.
They would have to.
His gaze flicked up and focused. The malicious look twinkled in his eyes.
“Hmm,” he said, then stepped back. A glance said he was looking at Tarian, who still sat in his seat. His expression had closed down, stoic and unimpressed. He was giving nothing away.