Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“Are you?” I ask before I can stop myself, but the truth is, I need to know where Micah’s people stand, and they need to know where I stand. The answer is not willing to die without a fight.
“Of course, I am.” Her voice and her expression hold nothing but sincerity. “You are important to the future of our world. But I’m sure this is all disconcerting to you after being uprooted from what you knew as your life. It happens to many of our kind every so many years as we age out of our lives, but at least we know it’s coming. We know what is real.”
“We’re all relieved you’re with us,” a man to my left, at the end of the island, states.
In other words, he’s glad I’m not with Jeremy. Here they can guard me, imprison me, kill me. Micah must sense what I’m thinking and feeling, as his fingers flex on my arm, and I swear his magic splays warmth over me, as if he’s telling me that’s not what this is, that’s not what any of them want to happen.
But want and need are two different things. I’ve seen need drive crime and desperation in far less situations.
“I’m Zeke,” the man says. “Nice to meet you.” He has raven hair so dark it glints blue, his eyes a rich, chocolate brown. He’s tall, his T-shirt hugging a muscular build. “I’m Micah’s right-hand, his most trusted.”
“Because he sure as fuck can’t trust the rest of us,” Silas says smartly, folding his arms in front of his chest and glaring at Zeke.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Silas,” Zeke mutters. “It’s not always about you.”
The two of them begin snapping at each other, and Gabriella sighs. “Welcome to Elysium, Ember. Where the deer and antelope do not roam and children never grow up.”
Micah leans in close and lowers his voice for my ears only. “They’re just as nuts on the battlefield.”
“Is that good?” I ask, glancing over at him, our breaths mingling, our heads dipped so low and close.
“Watch and see. They’re as loyal to each other and me as they are brutal.”
One of the men who disappeared into the kitchen right as we joined the group reappears with a plate of burgers in his hand. He’s clean-shaven, with a buzz cut and sharp cheekbones. And his eyes—I always notice the eyes now—are green.
“I’m Braylon, the disciplined one who cooks better than they complain. I hope you like burgers. I consider my burgers the best in the two worlds.”
“Hi, Braylon,” I say, liking him instantly for no explainable reason. “I love a good burger. Especially the best in two worlds.”
“If only he could wield his sword with the skill he wields a cooking utensil,” Silas says with a snort, taking a sip of a brown beverage in a clear mug.
Braylon shoves his shoulder. “Fuck you, Silas. No burger for you.” He glances around the table. “Come eat, everyone, except Silas. The food is on the table and ready.”
Silas pushes off the island and follows Braylon to the table. Zeke groans and says, “I better get between them.” He heads their direction, and the three of them gather at the table, voices lifting.
“And this is why they need me,” Gabriella murmurs, eyeing Micah. “I’ll get them settled down, boss.” She slides off her barstool, and then we’re alone at the island, just me and Micah.
I shift toward him and ask, “Why does Braylon cook when he can just wish the food into place? Is it about fitting in with humans?”
“Not really,” Micah says, his elbow on the island. “Think how boring life would be if you did nothing for enjoyment.” He lowers his voice. “Why not just wish yourself an orgasm? You wouldn’t need me then.”
My eyes go wide, and I laugh nervously, my cheeks heating. “Did you really just say that?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I did. And don’t get any ideas. It’ll be better with me, I promise.” He catches my hand. “Let’s go eat.”
When he would pull me with him, I tug him back. “Shouldn’t we ask what they found out?”
His smile fades, shadows falling across the hard lines of his face. “Silas already gave me a negative shake of his head, his silent message clear. They came back with nothing more than him.”
Disappointment knifes through me. “In other words, the serpent waits eagerly on my return to the human realm. He’ll kill Sara, Micah, and then what will that make me?”
His brows lift. “Sara?”
“I had an imaginary friend when I was a kid named Sara. She was my wolf. I don’t want her to die, or maybe I shouldn’t want her to live and turn into a rabid demon with me.”
“I told you—”
“Believe. Be strong. I know all of this. That doesn’t erase moments like this one, not for me. Maybe I’m still too human to just stand on the mountain and scream a victory I have not earned.”