Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Blood sprayed the walls that still stood. A good portion of the left side was missing large chunks, as if something large had punched through it. Bodies and piles of ash were scattered about, some lying across the broken stone. But one still stood. At the end, behind them, where only half of the wall remained intact, and a single door hung from a beam, creaking as it swayed in the wind, was a Great Hall bathed in muted sunlight.
I wanted to be in there.
Needed to get in there. Because that was where her scent was the strongest.
But the god before me stood in the way.
My attention shifted to her as I gave her a cursory glance. She was unremarkable, but she was different.
The god didn’t stumble back in shock upon seeing me. Her eyes didn’t widen. But those eyes… They were black and threaded with crimson essence as the realm split open behind her.
Death.
And her scent? It smelled like him: stale lilacs.
I prowled toward her, eather ramping up.
The god smirked as she stepped back. I shot forward, but she slipped through the opening. Icy fury pounded through my veins—
“Holy shit.”
My head shot toward the Great Hall. A god stood a few feet inside the chamber. I could see nothing of his features beyond the hood of the fitted black coat he wore, but he was old, and the essence in him was different. It didn’t carry the mark of death.
“Fuck my life,” another voice muttered—the one that had been demanding that they leave.
My gaze shifted behind the hooded god as he started backing up. Two stood inside. I saw the female in white armor first. Tall and striking, with rich-brown skin and tightly braided hair, I knew immediately that she was the Primal I’d felt. I didn’t even need to see the silver eyes to know I was right, but I did look, noticing the tears glistening against the eather lighting up the veins beneath those eyes.
My gaze flicked to the one who had an arm shoved out in front of her. He was half a head taller, with auburn hair and golden eyes. I eyed him, sensing something dark and shadowy in his essence, reminding me of when we stood outside of the City of the Gods, and Nyktos briefly made an appearance. He wasn’t a Primal, but he was very, very old.
I quickly scanned the Hall—or what was left of it—as I walked forward. The domed ceiling was gone, several pillars supporting the alcove had been broken, and half the second level had collapsed to the main floor. Red was smeared along the cracked marble tiles.
“What are you?” the faceless god spoke as I stalked forward.
“Not really important,” the auburn-haired one bit out as the Primal stared, the god’s chest heaving behind the armor.
“Disagree,” the other replied, remaining rooted where he stood.
I focused on him, inhaling as my senses reached out. My chest vibrated with a low, rumbling growl. It wasn’t his essence that caused the ice in my chest to harden. It was the scent that soaked him.
Blood that wasn’t his.
Blood that smelled of jasmine.
My chin lowered, and my upper lip curled.
“Thierran,” the Primal uttered, voice low and urgent.
The god’s head cocked. “What are you?” he repeated.
“Death.”
The two behind him stiffened. The auburn-haired one called for Thierran again, and he started to move then. But I was fast—faster than I’d ever been.
In a breath, I had my hand on the hooded god’s throat. “I can smell her on you.” I breathed in, gaze dropping to the chest of his coat. It was smeared with dried blood. The eather throbbed as it swelled. “You’re covered in her scent.”
“Her…? Shit,” the god choked out. He lifted a hand but didn’t summon the essence. “Don’t.”
I had no idea who he spoke to—if it was me or them. I didn’t care. Another growl clawed its way out of me.
“It’s the King,” he managed to breathe. “Her King.”
I barely heard him. The icy knot in my chest was expanding, becoming a cold, insatiable void. “Where is she?”
“Don’t,” he repeated.
That wasn’t an answer, and I was done asking. My grip on his throat tightened, cutting off whatever he had been about to say next. I turned, lifting him from the floor—
Eather struck the back of my shoulder, spinning me away from the hooded god as searing pain shot through every nerve. Cold fury flooded my system, igniting a primal instinct.
Shadows blossomed under my skin, and the flesh along my hands, on my upper arms, and patches along my chest thinned once more, revealing silver, gleaming bone. The skin between my shoulder blades prickled. Muscles deep beneath them rippled, tugging at the wings tucked along my spine. They slid free as I whirled toward the gods.
Shock poured into the Primal’s eyes, overshadowing the grief in them as her gaze swept over me. “Oh, my Fates,” she whispered. “Oh, my fucking Fates.”