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)
Now, I can actually do something about that.
I bring my drink to my lips but make my hand so unsteady that I slop it onto my pants on the way up.
“Or maybe you’ve already had her. Just that quick. Maybe it was so bad she sent you away.” Leon folds over in laughter, delighted by this possibility.
“Maybe she said she wants to get married first,” I say, slurring the words. “Maybe it’s just a matter of time, so you should be more respectful to me.”
“Because you’ll be the next king of the shadow court. Right. Keep telling yourself that. She might be dumb enough to bed you, but she’s not dumb enough to marry you.”
King? What is he talking about? Jasalyn’s husband would never be king.
I feel Misha’s anger through our connection. Unless something happened to her sister, forcing Jas to become the queen.
Claim the princess and control the court—do you think that’s what this is about?
“I don’t have time for your delusions.” Leon strides by me, swatting my glass on his way out and spilling most of the contents onto my pants.
“Jackass,” I mutter.
Leon only laughs.
Placing the glass on the side table, I force myself to settle into the chair and not turn around to watch him go. I count to twenty, then do it again.
Any idea where he went? I ask Misha, who’s gone alarmingly quiet in my mind.
No. I can’t get into his head from out here.
Could you if you were in here?
I could if his shields are as weak as his brother’s.
Good point.
I push out of the chair and take my glass back to the bar, listening for the sound of anyone approaching, but all I hear is the creaking of an old house and the groan of the wind in the trees out back.
I’m headed to the stone.
I don’t like this.
You’ve mentioned that a few times now.
Pardon me: I didn’t like it before. Now that we know they’re after more than just the princess’s hand, I hate it.
We still need that stone. The others are working on the tracking spell this very moment.
I keep my steps as soft as I can while still keeping my movements casual.
There, on your right, Misha says.
I risk a look over my shoulder before turning the knob, stepping inside, and closing the door behind me.
The room is bigger than I expected, with a table and four chairs in the center. Not just a room to store valuables but a place to bring guests and show off your priceless possessions.
My gaze lands on the safe in the corner, a freestanding copper unit that reaches Ezra’s chest. My heart stumbles from its steady jog into a sprint.
Use your hand to open the safe, pocket the stone, and then get out of there.
I stop in front of it, something knotting in my gut and telling me to turn back. Intuition or cowardice?
Come on, Felicity. The sooner you get it, the sooner you can leave.
I position my hand—Ezra’s hand—against the outside of the safe, pressing my fingertips into the cool metal as the mechanical bolt whirs, then retracts.
I pull my hand away and the door swings open, revealing gems and jewels of all kinds.
Did you know you block when you get stressed? Misha asks. Let me see.
I focus on relaxing enough to open the connection between us and look at the contents of the safe.
Misha curses. That’s a bigger stockpile of fire gems than I’ve seen in ages.
But where’s the stone?
I try to focus on the safe’s contents but can’t shake the sense of revulsion that comes over me every time I redirect my focus.
Something feels wrong about this. Could it be spelled to repel me?
It’s possible. Are you okay? Do you need to leave?
Not when I’m this close.
See the white box tucked behind the gems?
I feel dizzy, but sure enough in the back corner there’s a white box with a pearlescent sheen. My stomach surges into my throat as I reach for it, but I work past the discomfort and close my hand around it. Maybe this horrible feeling will fade once I get it away from this safe.
I drop it onto the table in the middle of the room, and Misha’s immediately in my mind. What are you doing? You need to get out of there.
I need to make sure it’s the stone.
I release the clasp on the side of the box and flip open the lid.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
My head snaps up as Leon strolls into the room. Misha. Trouble.
Leon narrows his eyes and sniffs. “I knew Ezra was acting strangely. Not like himself at all.” He cocks his head to the side. “You don’t smell like a shifter. So this must really be my brother’s flesh.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I blink and his blade is at my throat. “Leon, what are you doing?”