Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
“Only the important things.”
He wasn’t going to derail me. I needed to see this through. “I cried when you died, Reynald.”
I could feel the tears building now, a wet frustrated heat just behind my eyes. I’d spent the last week worrying and going over every possibility, every contingency, and the pressure cooker of it finally broke me.
“I . . . witnessed it happen many times, and I cried every time.”
I had read about it, not witnessed it directly, but I wasn’t ready to tell him that.
“I wanted so much for you to succeed, to save your son, and get far away from Kair Toren. You must survive. I cannot come here to bury you. I can’t have you turn into one of those wooden plaques hanging off the branches. I can’t do it. It will destroy me.”
I’d said too much.
A warm hand closed over mine. The words died in my mouth. Suddenly we were connected. Everything else disappeared. It was me and him, and he was holding my hand in his.
“I won’t let him kill me.” He swore it like it was an oath.
It felt so reassuring and safe and so achingly right. I wanted him to wrap his arm around me, pull me close, and tell me that it would be fine. I wanted to keep touching, to feel him, to kiss him. I craved it. I required it. It wasn’t just a need; it was as if I were in pain and only he could make it better.
I wanted Reynald.
Holding on to him was a colossal breach of etiquette. I had to let go.
I looked at him and forgot to breathe. His eyes were hot and green, and he looked at me like he wanted me. He was all in. There was no way I was misinterpreting that. The densest woman in the world would’ve known exactly what was going through his head.
This man had already lost so much. His parents were dead, his wife had been murdered, and his son had been kidnapped. And here I was, lying to him.
I had been lied to before by someone I loved. I had moved on, but it still hurt years later. And my lie wasn’t the ordinary kind. No, it was huge.
I’m not from Rellas. In my world, you’re a character in a book, but here you are, real and alive, and I don’t know how that’s possible. I don’t know what brought me here or why. I don’t understand why I can’t die. I don’t know if there is a magic counter that keeps ticking every time someone kills me and if one day I might run out of lives. I don’t know how much time I have in this world. I don’t know if I have a future here.
I knew how Reynald thought. He’d witnessed me dying and coming back to life, and it had disturbed him so much, he’d made it his mission to make sure I didn’t die again. Right now, we both felt the beginning of something, but if I kissed him, there would be no going back. I wouldn’t be able to let go, and his eyes told me he wouldn’t want to.
If we got together, and then I died and didn’t come back to life, it would rip him apart. He would blame himself for failing to keep me safe.
If whatever weird force that had thrown me into Rellas yanked me back out without warning, he would look for me. Finding me would become his life’s goal, just like saving Matheo was a goal, except he would never find me no matter how hard he tried. He would never know what had happened.
And even if none of this came to pass, even if I kept resurrecting and stayed in Rellas, I couldn’t offer him honesty.
I knew this world was real. I felt it. But if I stopped lying, I would have to tell him how I knew the things I knew. He would have to wonder if his life was just a book. What would it do to a person if they were to find out that they were a figment of someone’s imagination? If that was true, the woman Reynald loved and cherished had died for the sake of emotional impact and their son was kidnapped to raise the stakes. His life and death would become just someone’s idea of entertainment.
And I’d had a front-row seat to all of it. I’d been in his head. I knew his inner thoughts and doubts, things that were so deeply private he never told anyone about them. Sharing those things should’ve been his choice, but the book had robbed him of that right. I knew his weaknesses and how to manipulate him. It would never be a relationship on equal terms.
He was a very smart man. He would see all of the pitfalls.