Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
My jaw worked, outrage stealing every word before it could leave my tongue. How had he turned this around on me? In one conversation, I became a bad mother to children that didn’t exist, and a war-monger when there was no war!
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” My eyes narrowed to slits. “Twisting words? Keeping everyone around you a little off-balance, a little distrusting, and a lot scared. Your mind games do not work on me,” I said softly, drawing near. “But consider this while you play them. You might just be teaching me to rule the kingdom... that I’ll steal from you.”
I smiled brightly. “Begin with your lesson, husband. I’m listening.”
“Yes,” he replied, reaching for the map. “Finally, you begin to accept your fate.”
He said that, but I saw it. For the barest second... Shadowsoul hesitated.
“LAST IS WOLF TERRITORY,” he said, drawing a circle around a stretch of land behind Castle Riagin. “As they change, they’re becoming more possessive of it, leading to bloody conflicts around their borders. As a result, we’ve declared this area off-limits to all but Foalan.
“This means if such a conflict arises, you must punish both the wolf and the other party involved,” Alisdair said. “Punishment for the violence. Punishment for provoking the violence by entering a forbidden area.”
I swallowed hard, identifying that area all too quickly. That dark, ominous pit. It was the home of bloodthirsty wolf faeriken that would’ve killed me on sight. The very pit Meallan tried talking me into entering. Instead, he helped me and let me go.
Why did he let me go? And what would’ve happened if I’d taken his hand?
“What if—” I cleared my dry throat. “What if you wander into that area by accident? Surely no one should be punished for an accident?”
“You are queen. You do not know the meaning of accident.” He rolled the map closed with a snap that echoed in my chest. “And you do not forgive them.”
“I don’t foresee me being the kind of queen you want, or expect.”
“You don’t foresee being my queen at all,” he lofted, crossing the room. “Isn’t your grand plan to escape through the dark, ice, and cold to the important things waiting for you in the kingdom of women-haters?”
I flushed. Again, every word out of his mouth was a dagger to my soft parts.
“Why should it make a difference to you what kind of queen I hope you to be?”
“It doesn’t,” I replied. “Because you’ll be dead by then.”
Slitted eyes tracked him to a darkened corner of the war room. He placed the map on the bottom of an overstuffed shelf, then waved his hand. Before my eyes, the bookshelf melted into the wall, leaving nothing but bare stone.
“How do you do that?” I blurted. “You’re not wearing any crystals. Unless, they’re... um...” I tried to stop myself, but I flicked down.
“You more than anyone know what’s in my pants, and it’s not coudarian crystals.”
Regret is swift.
A long, golden rope hung from the ceiling. Alisdair pulled on it sharply.
“Men do not have Mother Meya’s favor,” he said, surprising me again.
Anyone else would’ve called me impertinent, tried to slap me, or barked at me to shut up and waste someone else’s time with my questions. It was strange comparing everyone I was raised to trust against the man I was raised to hate. What does it mean when a good person treats you worse than a monster?
“We fight, struggle, and beg her for every drop of magic. Or, I should say, other men do. I brought Meya to heel a long time ago. Now, magic obeys my will. As all men do.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “As you will soon.”
Nothing. The answer is it means nothing when a monster pretends to be kind. He’s still a monster.
“I don’t know what disgusts me more,” I said, “your blasphemy, or your delusional fantasy that I will ever obey you.”
“Neither should disgust you. It is mere fact.” He stalked toward me, tipping my head back, back, back to hold my glare. “I am now the god you worship. From the moment you stepped into that cauldron, you forsook all others and pledged your life, your hopes, your wants, and your body to me.” Holding my gaze, he slowly brought my palm to his lips.
I could’ve stopped him. Could’ve pulled away. But my body wouldn’t respond to the command. He pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of my wrist, scampering goose bumps down my arm. The other hand suddenly grasped my hip, startling a gasp out of me.
The thin fabric of my dress did nothing to hold back the heat from his touch. Pulling me close, he drew soft, slow circles on my back while kissing a burning trail down my arm—all the while holding me captive in his mesmerizing gaze.