Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
But I can’t eat. I want to move. I need to get started.
“You should eat, Your Highness. I mean, Lachlan.” Roan walks out, followed by his vampire partner. They won’t enjoy the cabbage and sausages Rachel cooked. He stops, staring for a moment. “Unless you take after your vampire half. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you or your brother eat.”
I manage a smile. “I assure you, we’re fine. We’ve had lots of meat, though the hunger for blood grows by the day. Cousin Julian made sure we had meal pills.”
Roan shakes his head, his jaw tense. “Meal pills are nothing once you’ve had real blood.”
“I’ll wait for my wife, thank you.”
Roan shakes it off. “Sorry. Being near Rachel always gets my blood high. She’s quite the consort.”
I understand what he’s saying. Rachel glows, a faint outline around her body that lets vampires know their blood will strengthen them, elongate their lives. A sidhe in need of a bondmate has to get intimate to know if a woman can bond, but I have my vampire heritage to fall back on. Rachel Harper has a gorgeous glow about her.
“Don’t tell Max,” Roan says, his eyes searching the horizon. “Rye would laugh it off, but Max takes things far too seriously.”
“How did you find them?” I’m curious. Roan has a whole setup. He’s made a business out of stealing into Tír na nÓg.
Roan smiles. “I found the crack, and when I managed to get through it, Rye was staring down at me. He found out what I was doing, and I discovered that he and his brother and wife were rebels looking for a way to fuck with the pretender. Rachel had a sister who disappeared with Torin’s guards. This whole village the Harpers live in is a wee bit radical. They’re protected by the mountains, and they have an intensely smart mayor. They’ve managed to survive relatively unscathed, but they intend to give Torin the fight of his life. We have weapons stashed all over Aoibhneas.”
Aoibhneas. I know the word well. Bliss. “Have you told them about the rebellion?”
Roan turns, and I see Rye Harper walking up, his arm around his wife’s waist. Max Harper follows behind them leading a ridiculously large horse with yellow eyes. He seems to be muttering to the horse under his breath. Rye Harper has his eyes on me. The previously friendly cowboy has a serious look on his face.
“We’re ready,” Rye says. “We’ve been ready for thirteen years.”
Rachel leans into her husband. “Are they really alive?”
It’s hard to believe how isolated Tír na nÓg has become. “Beck and Cian Finn are alive and well, and they have formed their true triad. Beck has mastered storms and Cian is a Green Man. Your kings will be back soon.”
Rachel hugs her husband and cries into his shoulder, clutching him. Rye Harper gestures toward Lach. “We’ll be ready. Tell me something, are you really the Unseelie prince?”
Lach nods. “I am.”
“He is the Unseelie prince, but only half of him. You two should be happy you only share a face and not a soul.”
I stop and sigh because it was the damn horse that spoke. The yellow eyes should be a dead giveaway. A phooka. A potentially dangerous creature, but very powerful. They can often be chaotic, but the phooka is known to band together with other creatures during times of hardship.
Rye laughs. “You have no idea how much I praise the day we weren’t born symbiotic. I can’t imagine having to be in his head all the time.”
“You wish you had my brain, brother,” Max shoots back. He looks at the horse, narrowing his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be undercover? Doesn’t that mean not doing the whole talking thing? It tends to give you away, dummy.”
The phooka gives a regal whinny. “I wouldn’t walk around talking about someone else’s intelligence, Harper. And the other horses hate you.”
Max rolls his cool blue eyes. “I doubt that. Those horses love me. And you better love me, too. I could call the guards down on your nasty ass.”
The phooka tosses his head. “I do not fear this, sidhe. I know far too much. Besides, you can grumble all you like, but you would not turn on an ally.”
Max leans in. “No, I wouldn’t, but I could move your stall away from that pretty mare you have those nasty eyes on.”
The phooka turns on him. “Don’t you dare. Do you know how long it’s taken me to convince her to let me close? I’m so close, Max. Have you seen her ass? It’s the hottest filly ass in the whole province.”
“Remember that.” Max focuses his attention my way. “You want to explain why we should trust you?”
I shrug. “I don’t care if you trust me or not.”
Max huffs, his face betraying a bitterness. “Well, that’s pretty much what I would expect from an Unseelie prince.”