Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“They won’t kill you,” he stated, panting as if he, too, experienced pain. “Briar Rose hasn’t rendered her final decision, which means you’re still in the running. Cyrus, even as Astan, won’t let anyone end you—yet. I’ll return, and we’ll get you out of here. Survive, Arden. That’s all you must do.”
He vanished before I could respond. Good thing. I only gurgled a series of incomprehensible noises. I’d lost. I’d taken a gamble, and I’d lost. Now, all of CURED knew what I was, and there was no going back.
Sickness churned in my belly as a grinning Vyle approached. “You almost had me convinced you’d chosen CURED.” He sheathed his gun. “You were a much worthier opponent than I’d expected.”
Were. Past tense. As if he no longer saw me as a threat.
As the alarm died, a new voice rang out. “Explain.”
A single-word command Mr. Vyle heeded without delay as Cyrus marched our way. “Lady Roosa attempted to sneak to the Rock. When I sought to apprehend her, she fought. This is the result of her capture. She is Soalian, Majesty. A powerful glower, judging by her movements.”
“Her affiliation isn’t your concern.” He looked between us, lingering on me several beats longer, his fury growing.
What little hope I’d retained withered to ash the second I noted the golden stars in his irises. He’d agreed to host Astan again. Or perhaps Astan never really left him.
Yes. That. Fury sparked. I’d bet my savings I’d been tricked. Now, there was no going back—for either of us.
“Why is she injured?” The fury graduated to a rage icy enough to freeze my cells.
“The lord-in-training, Roman, is responsible,” Vyle stated. “He is Mercurio’s chosen, and he prevented her from leaving.”
Behind Cyrus, the guards parted, providing a clear path to the guy I’d once admired.
“Majesty.” Roman bowed in deference. “I will serve you faithfully for—”
Cyrus palmed a gun, twirled it in his grip, and fired a shot without ever turning around, nailing Roman between the eyes. “Mercurio can select someone else.”
The trainee fell forward, already dead.
I gasped at the speed and violence of everything, horrified all over again.
“What would you like me to do with the girl, Majesty?” Vyle asked, undisturbed.
Cyrus didn’t miss a beat. “Lock her in the dungeon for now.” He shot out his arm, capturing the other man by the chin to ensure he listened well. “Have her tended, and make sure there’s not another scratch on her, or I’ll be . . . perturbed.”
Vyle paled, as if there were no greater threat, and inclined his head. “I’ll see to her recovery personally.”
Cyrus flicked his tongue over his teeth, holding my stare as I panted through my pain. “I suggest you behave, sweetness. My patience with you grows thin.” As he spoke, he lifted a finger and mimed a spin, which turned out to be a command Vyle heeded.
The executioner picked me up and forced me to stand.
Cyrus slid the rings from my fingers, adding, “You won’t like what happens if you attempt another escape.”
“I don’t like you,” I spat at him, my knees nearly buckling. But fall? No. “That’s the problem.”
“You don’t know me.” Eyes narrowed, he erased the gap between us, butting up against me. “But you will.”
Though I hurt, I didn’t let myself back down. Here I was, peering at a face I cherished, breathing in a scent I treasured—although, yes, I noted a slight difference now. A tad sharper. But I digressed. In any other situation, I would’ve been confident of Cyrus’s desire to protect me. Today, I couldn’t trust him, and it sucked, especially because I knew what was coming. The battle. My sword slicking through his flesh.
“So beautiful.” He grazed his knuckles along one side of my cheek. A corner of his mouth twitched, a reaction Cyrus often had with me as well. He was in there, aware. He must be. “You value the truth, so here is an unvarnished fact, nothing hidden. You will host Briar Rose or die. As always, the choice will be yours.”
He turned on his heel and stalked off.
Vyle gave me a shove in the opposite direction, forcing me to walk over slain soldiers. Blood wet the soles of my boots, a squeak sounding with every ensuing step. I even left little crimson prints in my wake.
When I didn’t move quick enough for his liking, he gripped my bicep. It hurt, but to be fair, everything did.
“Don’t think I won’t tattle about your treatment of me,” I muttered.
“Don’t think he’ll always care,” he replied, smug. “You’ll refuse him, and he’ll kill you. I’ll be his favorite again.”
So much for Briar Rose’s vision of a happily ever after—the dragon as enamored of me as Cyrus.
We descended a staircase and passed through a shimmery veil. Between one step and the next, we exited a narrow hallway and entered the dungeon with bloodstained walls and barred cells lining both sides. Most were filled with moaning, groaning maddened. Some contained glowers. All were trapped in various stages of starvation and torment.