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 am broken. Fractured. Only one thing could fix him. His mate. She had her godsdamned work cut out for her.
“A gander at dark-eyed Meera is worth any effort.” Lowell sighed. “Even rousing you. So get up and greet the night.”
Thane rose from the bed with a grimace. Though he was immortal and could never change his form, he still felt his years. Weariness weighed on him like a meal of spoiled meat. “I’ll go. I want to see this ungodsly halfling.” By degrees, Thane washed, dressed, and forced down food.
His stomach rebelled. Thane the Hungry? Not usually. At least not for food.
Hungry for her.
All Lykae dreamed of matehood; he hunted its shadow in debauchery and woke emptier.
As a boy, he’d heard mated males trying to explain what such a connection was like. Each one’s eyes had flickered Lykae blue, his body vibrating like a struck tuning fork. No one had had the words.
I crave what canna even be explained. Thane was a king with power and wealth but could never possess what he truly wanted—the pinnacle of Lykae existence. And I tire of waiting.
Once he felt wolf enough to face the night, he’d nearly called off the meeting. Why bother? Every meeting was the same. Every night was a repeat of lows with no forecast of highs—
A haunting howl rose up from the dungeon, stirring Thane’s beast.
Tamping it down, Thane bit out a curse. “Straegan’s getting stronger.” Craigdúr’s dungeon barely held its hulking prisoner.
“Aye. That call tugs at even my wolf, and I’ve got more control than most. You’ll have to deal with your prisoner soon, before more fall under his influence.”
My prisoner. My brother. “Later,” Thane said, easily turning his mind from fratricide. “Tonight…witches.”
They descended to the bailey. Wind off the Twilight Sea threw spray up the cliff face. The last of the day’s sun painted a copper bridge across azure water toward the far Arcane Ocean.
This sunset was one of the reasons his great-great-grandfather had chosen these lands so long ago in the Exile. Sea and highlands. As close to home as he could get his devastated pack. And as far away from the undead quarantine zone of the Helter.
The view before Thane was a spectacle, yet he was numbed to it. Spectacles blurred after a while.
In the bailey awaited a young demon in oversize livery, horns still downy. “My liege. Timofee Courier. An honor.”
This pup’s family had been the royal teleporters for centuries. This one’s father used to trace Thane. So where is Timofee’s sire? He didn’t ask; Lowell would know. “To the base of Mount Nothrior, lad.” Only the meeting attendees were allowed at the top.
“Aye, my liege,” the pup said, his voice breaking with nervousness. Probably his first job.
Thane and Lowell gripped his arms; their surroundings faded to nothing, replaced by new ones.
“Wait here,” Lowell told the boy. “And stay sharp. No violence is allowed at the peak, but the soil around this base has drunk its share of blood.”
Thunder rolled. Timofee swallowed.
No one knew who had neutralized powers at the peak—just knew it made for a preferred spot to talk and even get out alive.
As Thane and Lowell started the rocky ascent, lightning flashed all around, illuminating the tendrils of black fog that swirled around the mountain. Petrified thorns tangled down the sides like milelong tentacles.
Thane said, “Tell me more about this demoness witch.”
“I hear she’s unpleasant to behold and already hated by her coven. I’ll keep an eye on the aide and see if the rumors are true about this new leader’s unpopularity.”
“Good. And get me out of here before we’re stuck in some long pissing match—” Thane stopped dead.
Scent hit him; sublime, wild, shattering. He stumbled and almost keeled over into a patch of stony thorns.
Two females waited atop the Mount. One scent turned his body electric. He couldn’t move forward. Yet needed to sprint. Frozen in place. Burning.
One of the two females was—
Her.
For the first time in his endless life, his Lykae Instinct roared one word:—YOURS!—
His heart thundered. Words failed. He’d almost missed this meeting! Licking his suddenly dry lips, he rasped, “It’s happened.” An infusion of lightning straight into his heart.
“What has? You threw up in your mouth?” Lowell patted his pockets, rummaging for a mint or something.
“Mine.” Thane put his hands on his knees, dragging in too little air. “Top o’ the Mount.”
Lowell’s eyes went wide. “Your mate?”
Shaky nod. His beast tried to rouse as well, baying inside for her.
“At last!” Lowell said, clapping his back. “The Accession is in full swing then? No one wanted this more than you. Bloody fantastic!”
“Nay.” Thane straightened once more as understanding settled over him. “Nay, it’s no’.”
Lowell glanced up the slope, then back. His grin dimmed. “Right. At best, a witch. At worst, the demonic murderess.” He winced. “You said there are no problems, but…”