Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
An honorable elven knight torn between duty and desire.
A human bookworm whose longing for true love may destroy him.
Nate
I’ve always dreamed of a grand love—the kind you read about at three a.m. when your heart aches and the world feels oppressive. I just never believed it would actually find me.
I’m a hopeless romantic. I fall for men who don’t stay. And the last time I trusted someone, it nearly got me killed.
Instead of dying, I was taken to the Nightmare Realm.
An elven knight pulled my soul from a dark river and offered me a my shadow in exchange for my life. I said yes, because I always do when a charming man chooses me.
Tristan is swoony, flirty, and oh-so-hot—as if every book boyfriend I’ve ever loved stepped out of the page to seduce me.
So, to hell with it, I follow him to a realm of endless darkness, monstrous beasts, and promises written in the stars.
Only then do I learn the I’m bound to another elf, one who only cares about my shadow.
Ancient laws don’t care about my shattered heart, but the deeper I fall into the Nightmare Realm—and into Tristan—the more impossible it becomes to ignore the way he looks at me. How he protects me. How he tempts me into believing I might actually matter to him.
Even if loving me could cost him every vow he’s ever sworn.
And if the Nightmare Realm doesn’t destroy me first, loving Tristan just might
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Nate
Inever expected my life to end like this, but reality doesn't work like a novel, and things don’t happen at the correct plot beat. I won’t be saved by a dashing prince. There will be no sudden surge of magic in my soul, and I won’t avoid a bullet by ducking.
But I’m getting ahead of myself, so let’s rewind a few minutes.
The stench of feces and rot assaults my senses when I open the rusty lock at the back of the shed with a crowbar. I only switch on my flashlight once I’m indoors.
“Fuck me…… don’t they ever clean here?” Richie hisses, following my lead.
My throat throbs as anger boils over, but my focus is on the neglected puppies, whose eyes shine back at me like copper coins. When their poor mother was brought into the clinic where I work yesterday, I knew something was terribly wrong. That poor dog had been bred far too frequently, and while her owners had cleaned her up before arriving at their vet appointment, the signs of abuse were still obvious.
I was the one stewing in grief and fury after the vet gave her her final shot, while the owner left. I promised I’d make sure her babies would have a better life, and while she probably didn’t understand me, I meant every word.
I might not be able to stop those bastards from raising more puppies in befouled cages, but these dogs, at least, will have a better life.
“We got to be quick,” I whisper and kneel on the muddy floor, trying to work out how to open the cage.
Soft, wet muzzles touch my hand. Curious eyes look up at me from black faces with tan markings. The little rottweilers look around nine weeks old, but I can clearly feel the ribs of the first I pick up.
“Oh, you poor thing. It’ll only get better from now on,” I promise and reach back, placing it in one of my boyfriend’s duffel bags. I then carefully repeat it with each of the other dogs.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of that smell,” Richie mumbles, before making a choking noise, as if he’s about to barf. “You’ll need to get me a new one after this.”
I laugh, but something inside me clocks this moment—yet another in a long list of disappointments. I believe Richie has a good heart, but he’s not very skilled at showing it. His parents are also very strict about cleanliness, so it only makes sense he’s squeamish about dog waste.
I wink at him. “Your birthday is coming.” I’ve already planned a little romantic getaway for us, but I could also gift him a new bag on top of that. After all, he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.
He winces, and I don’t know what to make of it. “Next month, I guess— What was that?”
We both still at the sound of a door slamming outside, and I swear the night’s gotten a bit brighter. My heart starts pounding like mad. Breaking in anywhere isn’t my usual evening. I’m the kind of guy who feels guilty for parking incorrectly.
“Gav, did you hear that?” A voice farther outside yells.
“Let’s go,” Richie hisses and he’s already on the move while I frantically look around to check if we have all the puppies.
“Wait,” I whisper, because I swear I can hear whimpering in the darkest corner of the cage.
“No! You’re on your own. I told you I’m not getting arrested over this shit,” Richie says from outside, but I can’t even see the glow of his flashlight anymore. At least he took the duffel bag.
I get it. He’s stressed. Has many expectations placed on him.
But I still can’t believe he left.
“Who goes there?” roars an unfamiliar voice, sending a cold shudder down my spine. I’m about to dash out the open door when a faint whine calls me back to the cage. It appears empty, but some poor creature is clearly calling for my help. Breathless, I flip over a ratty blanket, and my heart stops at the sight of a tiny puppy curled up underneath. It must be the runt of its litter, but I’m not leaving it behind just because it’s slow and weak.
Within seconds, he’s tucked under my hoodie. I make a run for it, switching off my flashlight as I emerge into the moonlit night. The sky is cloudless, and the glow of the full moon illuminates my path between the barn and a pile of scrap. Without thinking, I dash toward the nearby creek, because once I cross it, the owners of this farm are less likely to pursue me. I’ve not heard barking, so I hope I’m not about to be mauled by a pack of rottweilers that don’t know any better.
Maybe the years spent on my college’s track team will save my ass, because more lights come on in the nearby farmhouse, and soon enough, I’ll be a sitting duck.