A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire #1) Read Online Jennifer L. Armentrout

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Flesh and Fire Series by Jennifer L. Armentrout
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Total pages in book: 239
Estimated words: 224443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 898(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
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“Let me guess. I’m sure it’s something disgusting having to do with your cock and then your sword.”

He made a misstep.

“Knew it.” I rushed under his attack, aiming low and kicking out, catching him in the midsection. The impact knocked him back a step, but he was quick to regain his footing, swinging out with an elbow that would’ve landed if I hadn’t ducked. He spun, thrusting out with the sword as I whirled to my left. The blade embedded deeply into the wall. Tiny plumes of stone dust exploded into the air, and I turned back, gripping his arm.

He pulled on the sword as I twisted around, slamming my elbow in the general vicinity of his face. Lord Claus cursed as his head jerked back. He tore the sword free, spinning toward me. Blood ran from his nose. He charged me but feinted to the right, twisting and lifting the sword high.

I lurched forward, grabbed his wealth of hair, and pulled hard, yanking him back sharply. The movement caught him off guard, and he lost his balance and started to go down. There was a reason I kept my hair braided and tucked under the cowl of my hood.

Grabbing his sword arm with my free hand, I slammed my elbow down on his wrist. I swept his legs out from under him, and he released the sword with a gasp.

Breathe in.

The sword fell with a heavy thump against the ground, and I brought the shadowstone dagger down. The blade was lightweight, but it was double-edged, each side sharp. Hold. The nothingness inside me began to crack, allowing the brief, choking heaviness of before to settle in my throat once more. I’m a monster whispered through my head.

“You stupid cu—”

Breathe out. I forced myself to move then. I struck fast, jerking his head up as I stabbed the dagger down. The end of the blade pierced the back of his neck, severing the spine and thus the connection to the brain.

Lord Claus jerked once, and that was it. There was no more sound. Not even a gasp. An internal decapitation was quick, not nearly as gruesome, and almost painless.

Exhaling raggedly, I eased the dagger free and gently lowered his too-loose head to the alley floor.

I rose, wiped the blade clean on the side of my gown, and then sheathed it. Turning, I spotted Claus’s fallen sword. Warmth gathered in my hands, the heat of my gift pressing against my skin. I clenched my fist, willing the warmth away. Stepping over the Vodina Isle Lord, I picked up the sword and got to work sending the message that would make my mother proud.

All I thought about while hopping down from the ship onto the docks was my lake nestled deep in the Dark Elms.

I was decidedly…sticky as I severed the rope anchoring the Vodina ship to shore. The current was always strong in the Stroud Sea. Within minutes, the vessel was already drifting away. It would take days, maybe weeks, but the Vodina Isles Lords would return home.

Just not whole.

Stepping back from the glistening waters, I inhaled deeply. I smelled of blood and pungent, White Horse smoke—an addictive powder derived from an onyx-hued wildflower found in the meadows of the Vodina Isles and often ferried in by merchants. The Lords had been indulging in the smoke, and the scent was probably the source of the dull ache setting up residency in and around my temples. The headaches had been infrequent, starting in the last year, but had become more common. I was beginning to wonder if they would eventually become like those my mother suffered from, causing her to retreat to her private quarters for hours and sometimes even days at a time. Seemed fitting that one of the rare things we had in common would be pain.

At least the dark fabric of my gown hid the worst of my evening’s activities, but red spotted my arms and hands, already beginning to dry. Looking back at the drifting ship, I pitied the person who boarded that vessel.

I’d taken a step from the docks when a rough shout ended in a deep groan, and a peal of husky laughter drew my gaze to one of the nearby ships. The outline of two figures was visible in the glow of the streetlamps. One was nearly bent all the way over the railing of the ship, and the other was pressed tightly to their back. Based on how they moved, they were as close as two people could get.

My gaze flicked to where silhouettes leaned across the front of a den across the street. I wasn’t the only one watching.

Goodness.

In many parts of Carsodonia, people would be aghast by the behavior of those on the deck. But here in Lower Town, anyone could be as openly improper as they desired. It wasn’t the only place debauchery was welcomed.


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