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)
Misha scoffs. “I’m insulted that you think I would detain her in a way that feels like detainment. Pretha and Amira are going to help keep her happy until I can return.”
“Well, that’s good at least,” I say. “Then, with me as Sol and you planning to stay unnoticed, we’ll use the queen’s Hall of Doors to access the palace?”
“That’s right,” Hale says. “She’s offered to let us use them to get to Elora as well.”
“So Misha and I enter the Eloran Palace. There, I find the Chronicles to discover everything we can about Erith, then search for the Grimoricon, then we get out of there and get Misha back to Castle Craige so Sol never suspects that Misha played her.”
“Sounds right to me,” Natan says.
“So why not send me alone? Why risk calling any unwanted attention to ourselves by sending Misha?”
“I already told you I’ll stay hidden,” Misha says.
“You aren’t going alone,” Hale says, worry creasing his brow. “Not there.”
“We have one more hiccup to consider,” Remme says, watching me from his post behind Hale.
My brother frowns over his shoulder at him. “What’s that?”
“I’ll be okay,” I say, nodding.
“What’s the hiccup?” Hale asks again.
Remme lifts his chin, telling me he’s going to allow me to explain this myself.
I stare at the map so I don’t have to look at their eyes. “You know my twin, Konner, planted memories in my mind—an illusion where he and I were close and I loved my life in the palace. They haven’t fully faded yet, but I can do this. I won’t let an illusion affect my resolve.”
“It might not be so simple,” Remme says gently. “If you find yourself confronted with your brother or a friend he planted in your mind, the illusion could be just enough to make you hesitate. A moment’s hesitation can be the difference between life and death.”
“Is this going to be a problem, Felicity?” Hale asks. “Because if we need to find another way—”
“No.” My chair cries against the stone floor as I push it back. “I can do this. I want to do this.”
I head for the door and the nearest balcony. Misha follows me.
“It’s okay to admit if you’re worried about this,” he says behind me.
“Anyone reasonable would be,” I say. I pull the envelope from earlier out of my pocket and wave it between us. “How did you get Sol’s hair anyway?”
“Pretty much the same way you got one from Ezra. I got close and made sure she was too distracted to think about what my hands were doing.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t that complicated.”
My stomach twists. “I’m sure that comes easily to you. Distracting females.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Are you jealous, Felicity?”
I scoff. “Why would I be jealous of a power-hungry member of the Seven?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Maybe because you liked it when my hands were in your hair.”
I should blow this off as just another jab, but I’m tired and can’t. “Your hands were never in my hair, Misha. Only Jasalyn’s.”
His gaze drops to my mouth, and I can’t breathe. “And why do you persist in believing that I wanted it that way?”
My mouth goes dry, my heart racing. “When you look at me like that, I don’t know what to feel.”
“When I look at you,” he says, “I don’t know how to feel.”
I glance down at myself—at Jasalyn’s body, Jasalyn’s arms. “I’m sure it’s confusing.”
“Confusing?” He huffs, then his face softens. “I dream about your kiss,” he says, rare vulnerability weighing on his words. “It haunts me.”
“About my kiss, or about the princess’s?” We both know there’s a difference.
The rough pad of his thumb skims across my bottom lip and he bends down to speak softly into my ear. “When you’re in my dreams, you never look like the princess.”
I let my eyes float closed and focus on the sensation of his fingers in my hair and his breath on my neck. I hook my fingers into his belt, holding him close. I want his kiss so much that I’m trembling from my fingertips to all the way inside my belly.
He bends down and tucks his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in. Every inch of my body is in tune with every move he makes. Jas’s body is too small for his, fitting awkwardly against his towering frame, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be pressed up against him like this while in my own skin. If my taller stature would allow me to tuck my face into his neck instead of his chest, if his strong hands would make the body that always feels too big, too curvy, feel right.
When he traces two fingers down my neck, a shiver travels down my spine. I’ve missed this. Missed it as much as I miss waking in my own skin.