Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Both my emotions and Mordeus’s, I understand now.
But today is different. Today I’m searching for something. Today I have a purpose and, if I’m successful, an escape from years of terror.
I cross my legs and let my eyes float closed, focusing on my breathing to remove my mind from my physical surroundings and turn it inward.
Here, you can visit memories you thought were long forgotten, the instructor told me. But I only found memories of wicked silver eyes and blood and pain.
This time, when those silver eyes appear in my mind, I focus on them, connect to them, remind myself of all the dreams I’ve had from those eyes and shift my consciousness into the other side of them.
The rage here whips around with such abandon, I nearly lose my grip on my own mind, but I hold tight, focusing a thread of my consciousness on myself, the smell of the candle in this room, the feel of the cushion under me, and I send the rest of myself slithering toward his darkness and rage, wrapping around it like a snake.
I see the Throne of Shadows, see my sister sitting on it, crave the feeling of taking it from her. Of ending her for stealing everything that I worked so hard for.
Seeing the world from these eyes, feeling Mordeus’s greed for power crawling beneath my skin, it makes me want to abandon my mission. But I can’t. I need the Sword of Fire.
The moment I lock my thoughts onto it, the images shift, and I’m standing outside a blacksmith’s hut just beyond the edge of the forest. It’s overgrown by bushes and trees and time, a relic of Oberon’s kingdom that was never rebuilt.
I take in all the details I can. The shape of the dilapidated building, the curve in the gravel road beneath my feet, the view of the palace in the distance.
My palace.
She doesn’t belong on that throne. She is a disgrace to the Unseelie Court—practically a human and residing over shadow fae.
Everyone who bows to her will lose their head when I take back what’s mine.
Maybe I’ll kill her slowly. I wonder if the sounds of her pleas for mercy will be as sweet as her sister’s were.
I jerk awake with a start, and a blade clangs to the floor at my feet.
“Jasalyn?”
Abriella sits up in bed and blinks at me, then at the blade on the floor.
How did I get here? Why was I carrying a knife?
“Jas, where have you been?” She throws back the covers with shaking hands, her gaze dropping to the floor before shooting back to me. I backpedal, trying to get away from her. Trying to get Mordeus away from her.
Every muscle in my body aches, the ring reminding me I’m cheating death. This pain is the cost of the power I craved when I made that bargain with the Eloran witch.
“What are you doing with my dagger?” Brie asks. She’s moving slowly, like I’m a timid, wild creature she doesn’t want to scare away.
I shake my head, taking another step back. Then another.
The room is dark except for the starlight coming in from the windows overhead, but despite her caution, there’s nothing but trust in her eyes as she pads toward me. Barefoot, half asleep, vulnerable. “Brie,” I whisper. I’m shaking. Trembling. “I don’t know how I got here.”
She reaches for me, dropping her hand before it can touch my shoulder. “What do you mean? Are you okay? We’ve been looking for you. Let me call the healer to look you over.”
What was I doing in my sister’s chambers with an iron blade? “Where’s Finn? Shouldn’t he be here to protect you?” Please tell me I didn’t hurt him. Please tell me he’s okay.
“He’s in the Court of the Sun. Sebastian needed help and since I didn’t want to leave . . .” She looks me over. “You’re sick. It’s the ring, right? Kendrick says it makes you sick.”
I was holding a knife over my sleeping sister. She needs to be hard with me. Not gentle.
“I’m fine.” I take another step back. “Brie, you need to have wards that keep me out.”
She shivers and wraps her arms around herself. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re not safe around me. You need to set up wards to protect yourself against me—against anyone who might be . . . using me.”
The confusion falls off her face. “You mean Mordeus.” She holds my gaze and sighs softly. “I know everything—even about the connection between the faceless plague and your blackouts.”
Shame washes over me—hot and heavy. The faceless plague. That’s what they called all the unexplained deaths throughout the court. It had been going on for months, and we had no idea that Mordeus was the one responsible. That I was the one responsible.
“I’m going to make it right,” I promise. “I know where to find the Sword of Fire, and I’m going to use it to get to Mordeus and kill him. For good.”