Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Cold flooded Torben’s veins.
“So your lover is…Prince Coștin?” Torben guessed. When her amusement deepened, he dared to ask her, “How long have you let him sway you?”
Yrsa’s eyes took on a crazed glint. “Sway me? I control him! He’d frittered away his birthright before I took control of him and shaped his destiny.”
“Birthright?”
“The General of Nothing will rule over a legendary Horde once more. I taught him how to secretly build his army, washing the brains of the weak and training lethal soldiers.”
My gods. Torben felt something in him fracture. He decided her fate then: I kill her tonight.
He stalked closer, keeping her talking. “Why would you help him?”
“He’s my mate.”
“You haven’t made his heart beat. All accounts say he isn’t blooded.”
“I might not be his, but he is mine. He thinks his sister is his vampire Bride, but she never blooded him either. When Arctos first gave me the information about her, I decided to take Emilia for him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I saved her from Neculain’s crypt,” Yrsa said. Madness or confessional kept her talking, words she seemed relieved to vent. “Placed her with my most trusted warrior, a male who could never desire her and one she could never desire either. But they’ve grown close—I saw it tonight—close enough that he will fight for her. I offered him an annulment this very eve. You see, I don’t want to have to kill Arctos.”
She’s insane. “Emilia won’t blood Coștin. She would have already.”
“I know,” Yrsa said with a shrug. “Once he finally has her and she fails him again, he’ll kill her and free himself of this obsession.” Her head tilted and she parted her lips, as if her next sentence would be particularly tasty. “Then he’ll beg for my favor—just as he begged for his life from your parents all those years ago.”
Torben’s stomach dropped. “What are you saying? He was among that hunting party? Were my mother and father still alive when you got there?”
Eyes drifting, she said, “They’d routed the vampires, forcing Coștin to his knees. Though he was already a few centuries old, he was so frightened, not at all like a Berserker. He couldn’t trace yet, could only cry. His blood tears moved me, and I recognized what he was to me. They would never spare him, nor allow me to. So I protected my mate.”
Torben swallowed bile. “It was you. You murdered your own people.” And she’ll try to kill me too.
“What wouldn’t you do for your mate?” she asked absently. “When your parents’ heads toppled, Coștin crawled to my feet, kissing them, and he’ll crawl back to me once Emilia is dead. No, I haven’t made his heart beat, but I spared his life and bonded to him so seamlessly I can spit in the face of fate. I will follow him throughout time, and eventually he will see what is crystalline. We are destined.”
Torben was almost in position to strike, knew he’d get only one shot with the first channeler. “You once cared for Arctos and me. For our people.”
She faced him, seemed surprised by his proximity. “I care for Coștin more. It’s not love unless it’s madness.” Her gaze flicked past Torben.
The incense scent returned stronger; his gut turned cold. Coștin had teleported behind him.
Torben dropped down, dodging a sword swing and slicing out with his own. The vampire’s wrist spurted blood as his free hand dropped, severed to the ground.
Yrsa roared with fury, but Coștin grated, “He’s mine.” He didn’t seem to feel his injury; amusement tinged his crazed red eyes as he swung his weapon again.
Blade met blade. And again. Torben’s Berserkerage strained to rise. But if he unleashed his, Yrsa surely would unleash hers. So he fought Coștin, fought his inner bear.
This male had drunk his aunt and uncle to death and planned to annihilate the Berserker clan with a new Horde. Fighting to protect his family and his people, he battered Coștin’s sword over and over, positioning for the death blow that his parents hadn’t been able to deliver.
“Enough of this!” Yrsa snarled. She released her Berserkerage.
Torben released his.
Too late.
She slammed Coștin aside with blurring speed and launched herself at Torben.
He evaded a slash of her claws and struck her with his sword, then again, hits that seemed to bounce off her flexed muscles, a pelt of steel.
With a yell, he swung a two-handed hit, landing it near her waist. It should have cut her in two, but his sword wedged into her hipbone, stuck there.
He wrenched it free a split second after her hand shot out. She’d punched a hole through his chest. Then she yanked her hand back.
She’d ripped out his heart.
She showed it to him.
He fell to his knees, gurgling blood, disbelief crashing through him.
The she-bear took a bite from his still beating heart, coating her face with his blood. She chewed as she stifled her Berserkerage.