Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
I stagger, dizzy. Marcus puts a steadying arm around me so I don’t hit the ground.
“Cut the shit,” Theron growls at me. “All of you, move. Pax is waiting.”
He moves the knife away from Amira and shoves her forward. She hits the ground, immediately bounding back onto her feet.
The current inside me subsides, but there’s still a twisting sensation beneath my feet. The leaves on the trees are swaying, the motion slowing along with my heartbeat.
I look down as we walk, shaking out of Marcus’s hold.
“Can you feel that?” I ask him, my voice barely a whisper.
His brows pinch together with worry. “No.”
“The ground is moving.”
His eyes lose their focus for a few seconds as he silently concentrates, then shakes his head. “I don’t know. There’s something, but I’m not sure what—”
The click of a gun safety being turned off right behind us makes me inhale sharply.
“Every word you speak is a bullet in someone’s head,” Theron says.
I don’t even dare a look at Marcus. A warm, fluid sensation washes over me and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nervous system. My connection to plant life is singing in my veins, but I can’t let it show. The warmth sliding through me is the coil of vines, rapidly lengthening and gathering to defend me if I need them.
We’re here.
It’s not just the vines anymore. Plants and trees are pouring themselves into me, their power like nothing I’ve ever felt before. If vines were a single melody, an entire symphony is playing inside me now.
The ground itself isn’t moving; its roots are spreading beneath us and moving closer to me. I have no idea how I know that, but I’ve never been so certain of anything.
We were getting close to Rising Tide, so it will only take us a few minutes to reach the perimeter of the camp. A wave of disgust rises inside me as I remember the last time I made this walk into camp—with Pax, after he “rescued” me on the beach.
I’m embarrassed by how well his bullshit worked on me. I thought he was looking out for me, but without Olin, I don’t think I would have survived Rising Tide.
The leaves scattered on the ground to keep mud at bay are browning and curling at the edges. When I see Tiders gathered in small groups at the center of the camp, a knot tightens in my stomach.
They’re all collarbones and sunken cheeks, like Marcelle was on the beach. Theron is three times the size of some of the women here. Their clothes are ragged, filthy, and torn.
The hatred that burns for us in their eyes is molten. Many of the gazes are locked onto me. I’m a traitor in their eyes because they don’t know the truth.
“So nice of you guys to drop by.”
Pax walks out from behind a group of people, his voice dripping with malice. Even he looks like a shadow of his former self, his cheeks sunken and his pants hanging on his too-lean frame.
“Where is she?” Nova demands.
A corner of Pax’s mouth lifts as he nods toward a group of fours, the highest level the prisoners here can reach. They’re the strongest and most ruthless of everyone, and this group looks like a pack of desperate wolves, ready to attack.
A man emerges from the group with Ellison, his hand locked around her upper arm. Her hair is wild, her eyes frantically searching until they land on Nova.
Nova lunges forward.
“Nova,” Marcus snaps.
She stops, and that’s when I spot the arrow arcing through the air toward her. It lands at her feet, only because she stopped in time.
I take a slow breath in and release it, trying to calm the raging storm inside me. My vines have come to my rescue many times; if they come now, my people could be killed over it.
Theron goes over to Ellison, holding the same blade to her throat he held at Amira’s. Nova silently seethes, tension radiating off her.
Pax’s expression is smug as he walks over to Marcus. He stands in front of him for a full second, then pulls his arm back and punches Marcus in the stomach.
I flinch. Marcus bends slightly, cringing. Pax is strong, his aromium giving him enough strength to easily kill Marcus with his hands. Marcus’s pride makes him straighten and hold Pax’s gaze. I know that blow had to hurt like hell.
“Not so tough without your weapons, are you?” Pax drawls, looking around at the faces of the gathered Tiders. “This is what suffering tastes like, Marcus. We taste it every goddamn day. ’Bout time you had a turn.”
He throws a punch at Marcus’s face this time, and I swear I can feel the vibration of the impact to his bones in his face from beside him. Marcus grunts and drops to his knees.