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)
“I’ll remain, in case you need something.”
Relief—sharp and unwelcome—flared. “Thank you.” She turned toward the bedroom but stopped at the threshold to find him staring at the flames with a pensive repose. “Arctos…”
He looked up. “Yes?”
“One day, I hope that we can be friends.” The word tasted strange. Almost dangerous.
“Maybe that’s possible.” His tone was low, noncommittal. “Let’s take it as it comes.” He turned back to the fire, but his shoulders had gone taut, his fists clenched. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat quickened—strong and resonant. What thoughts made him react so intensely? Beside the damp hair at his neck, she spied his jugular throb.
Odd. As the cave spun, she couldn’t seem to look away from that pulsing line of his throat.
Then a sublime new thread hit her nose. Her gaze darted to lock on the source: one of his clenched hands. He must’ve cut himself with a nail because a drop of blood welled at the base of a fist, bulbous and gleaming in the firelight.
For the first time in her life, her fangs sharpened. And dear gods, how they ache. They throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
The scent of that single drop steeped the air, rich and dizzying. She rubbed her tongue on one razored fang. Pain. Blood. The shot of crimson filling her mouth was…everything.
Creepy. Wrong.
But everything.
Chapter 36
Thane
“Trace her the fuck out of here,” he growled when Ditch and Jastorgh approached him in the godsdamned Helter.
Thane had been tracking the thin curl of smoke on a far peak, a hunter’s scent for a sorceress’s lair. Now he had company tromping after him like this was a park stroll.
He caught the smirk tugging at Ditch’s mouth, and something in him jolted. Memories of the night before slammed into him. He’d once told Lowell there were no problems. Suddenly he drowned in them.
“She paid for a ride,” Jastorgh said. “I delivered the ride.”
Through the red mist rising from the Firis, Thane skimmed the tree line, ears pricked. Movement. Closing in.
Alone, he could get ahead of a threat, cutting through this dark forest, but not with his mate in tow. And off the Mount, he didn’t know what tricks she’d use—whether she could peel his thoughts apart like silk. “Then take us both back.” Thane would return another night.
Ditch told Jastorgh, “I’ll stay, thank you.”
The demon shrugged, wings rustling. “You heard the high priestess.”
Thane’s Instinct roared: —Away from here. Now.— “I’ve dealt with you for centuries,” he snapped at Jastorgh. “She’s been in the Skein five minutes, and you’re taking orders from her?”
“She offered money. I am a transportation contractor.”
“No’ for long. And it’s worse than transport. You bloody showed her where I’d be.”
“Just doing my part to reunite mates. Consider me Cupid.”
“I’ve met Cupid,” Ditch said, flicking him a wicked look. “Don’t sell yourself short, love.”
Her flirting landed like a spark atop dry kindling. Thane’s eyes narrowed on Jastorgh. “So that’s it—you’re loyal because she’s demonkin.”
Ditch laughed. “If he were loyal, he wouldn’t have traced me here at all. The thrill of the demonic deal motivated this one, I assure you.”
A wet, collective groan rolled from the deeper woods. Jastorgh went still.
“Ghouls?” Ditch asked, far too mildly.
The troop hadn’t scented the intruders yet. Hundreds of them slunk through these sultry woodlands, and more would always come.
“Last chance, beautiful,” Jastorgh said, uneasy. “Come with me.”
“I’ll remain until I summon you. I like this place.” She lifted her face to a shaft of reddened moonlight and inhaled as the river’s fumes crept along her skin. “Feels freeing.”
Freeing? “She canna hear the ghouls. She does no’ know!”
Jastorgh lifted a helpless hand. “I can’t force her to go.”
“You fucking can!” Thane growled. He reached for the gold coin in his pocket—bait enough for most demons—but Jastorgh vanished.
“Godsdamn it.” I’ll kill that motherfucker. He turned on Ditch. “Why risk this? Do you value your life so little?”
“I’m meant to be here with you on the eve.” She let her claws drift through mist, smiling as the red swirled around her fingers. “I’ve never seen fog so ominous. No wonder everyone gets spooked by this charming place.”
Charming? More like hellish. The woods looked as though they had grown in a northern forest, yet the air pressed thick and stifling, like the breath of the hottest jungle. Char and sulfur clung to everything, the River of Hell pouring out relentless heat. And beneath it all, something stirred.
Ghouls moaned again. Closer.
Thane carved Jastorgh’s sigils in the dirt with his sword tip—
“Ah-ah.” Ditch toed them away. “I’ll watch your back tonight.”
He cursed in Gaelic. Then her words sank in. “Watch my back? Have you a care for me as well?”
“No.”
He scowled, mostly at himself. After one night with her, he’d let hope get teeth.
“I care that Straegan doesn’t inherit your throne,” she said. “And I need to know you aren’t seeking a witch who’ll force me to love you.”