Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I’ve always said I wasn’t a runner. I charge headfirst into everything that chases me, but this time—
I fucking run.
Asher
Ivy sprints barefoot across the grass, disappearing through the clearing of trees.
“You gonna chase her?” Atlas asks from behind me. “Or just watch her disappear?”
I don’t answer.
Out of all the things I thought she would do when she finally figured it out, running wasn’t one of them. Murder? Yes. Run? No.
Dovecrest was bullshit. I knew it the second I laid eyes on her again.
Time doesn’t heal all wounds, especially the ones that tell you they love you.
“She knows,” I say instead. “About…me.”
Atlas exhales. “Then she’s running from you, not Emeric.”
I flip him off without turning. “No shit.”
He steps beside me, shoulder brushing mine. “You want me to bring her back?”
“No.”
He pauses, shuffling his feet. “You want me to kill her…”
The corner of my lip twitches. “Touch her and I’ll gut you.”
Atlas barks out a laugh. “Just checking to make sure we actually are on the same page. Also, I ain’t about to run through the forest, so if you think—“
“—shut the fuck up, Atlas.” I head back inside because if I hear another fucking sound from my brother my mom’s gonna be down a kid.
Atlas looks between me and the spot Ivy ran through. “Yo, you can’t just leave her out there, Ash. She’ll fucking die!”
I ignore him.
“Ash!” he yells again, but I slam the door closed, cutting him off. I’m not worried about her dying. If she got too cold she’d slide into the hot springs she stumbled across a while ago, or she’d just come back. Her training means she can probably handle temperatures that would kill anyone else. So as per usual, Atlas is being dramatic.
Khloe flies up from the sofa, Camille right beside her.
“Jesus. Did everyone fucking wake up?”
“What is happening?” Camille asks, eyes wide and face pale.
So this is what fear looks like. Something Ivy could never feel because I would never fucking kill her. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Camille stumbles back, catching herself on a chair. “Asher?”
Too late.
I fist the hair at the back of her head, tearing the phone from her hand before tossing her at Khloe.
Khloe catches her without effort. “And what the hell do you think I’m gonna do with her?”
“Tie her up,” I say as if talking to a toddler.
Khloe snorts. “No offense, big brother, but—”
“—oh you are so dead, Asher! You go against the fucking Conduct! You go against generations of loyalty, blood—”
Khloe’s elbow slams into her face and Camille drops to the ground with a thud.
“If I knock her out we don’t need to tie her up.” Khloe shrugs, moving for the alcohol cabinet on the floating shelf by the back wall.
“Asher!” Atlas snaps from the entrance. “She will die out there.”
“She won’t,” Khloe says. “And we all know why.”
Exactly.
Khloe shoves Camille with her toe. “So how bad of a number has Emeric done on her?”
Atlas sucks in a breath. “You did make sure before you let her run off, didn’t you? Because if you hadn’t, we’re all fucking dead.”
My eyes roll. “Well-the fuck-aware, dipshit.”
Why didn’t I just knock Ivy’s ass out and tie her up in the basement...
“Everyone cliff side.” I grab the hoodie off the sofa and shove it on. “We’ll meet you all there.”
“Boss?” Devon hollers from behind me. I glance over my shoulder at the arm in the sling. He looks fucked up, but Ivy did a good job of missing a killshot.
Again.
“What?” I snap, still wanting to kill one of my own soldiers for touching her.
He clears his throat. “It could be too late.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
IVY
I run.
Snow bites into my bare feet. Dead leaves whip my ankles, catching against the thin cuts already striping my skin. I shove through the trees, dragging air into my burning lungs.
Le Boucher is Asher.
“How the fuck did I miss it?” I gasp, stumbling over a buried root.
Asher watches me enter a room as if everyone around us has forfeited the right to breathe.
Pathetic, Ivy.
My foot slides on frozen mud, sending me shoulder-first into a pine. Bark tears my palm when I catch myself. I stay there, bent over, breath sawing through my chest while the woods tilt around me.
Footsteps crunch behind me, locking my knees. Fuck! No way did he catch me.
A hooded figure ducks into view, shoving the fabric back. A woman. A branch snaps to my side, and my head whips toward the sound, eyes blurred.
“Ivanya,” the woman whispers. “Let me hel—”
I shove her out of the way and keep running.
The wind slips beneath my clothes, drying the sweat along my ribs.
A hard weight cracks across the side of my head. My knees collapse before I find a weapon, a face, even a breath, and everything goes black.
Pain pulses hot and uneven as my body sways with the water. Am I in water?