Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“As do I,” Wynter said in the same gleeful tone she’d had while interrogating Gerrond.
“I’ll be there too. So try to publicly humiliate me or something,” Prescott said with a shrug. “If I find out what he’s planning, I’ll find you. Otherwise, I should be scarce.”
“Understood,” Fordham said. “Anyway, I want to see what Barron has planned for us.”
“You don’t think they just want to kill us?” Kerrigan said, hazarding a guess.
“Probably just you,” Wynter said on a shrug.
Kerrigan shot her a look. “Great. And the spirit magic?”
Fordham winked at her. “We’ll make our excuses. Trust me. I’m not giving up my training any more than you are.”
“Let’s hope I can prove that you’re bad at something.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m bad at staying away from you.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Trap
“Now, this is a dress.”
Fordham’s eyes traveled down the length of her as she twirled in place. The silver ball gown looked like liquid metal as it slid against her skin. The bodice cut to a severe V nearly to her navel with a matching plunging back as well. It wasn’t a Parris original, her favorite fashion designer in Kinkadia, but it was much better than the poofy monstrosity she’d been stuffed into before.
“Well, I did say a Kerrigan dress,” Fordham said as he slipped an arm around her lower back and drew her red-painted lips in for a kiss.
“You don’t like?”
“Like is the wrong word. Prefer it on my floor?” he suggested. “You’re going to shock the traditional crowd.”
“That’s the point.”
She pushed her bright red hair off her shoulders. Instead of going for a slicked-back look that her hair absolutely detested, she’d gone for natural waves and curls with big volume. If she had a target on her back, she wasn’t going to hide. She’d be ready.
“Did anyone have information on how Barron found out about our plans?” Kerrigan asked.
Fordham shook his head. “No. And I haven’t heard anything else from Prescott. We’ll just attend as prepared as we can.”
“Everyone is in position?” she asked.
“All set,” Fordham said with a nod. “And you?”
She swallowed. Half of this plan relied on her confidence in her new powers, and she hoped that she could pull it off. She worked best under stress—always had.
“I can do it,” she told him. “And I have my backup in place too.”
His eyes shifted to the set of gold bangles that adorned her wrists. She’d hidden her mother’s bracelet in the midst of other similarly styled designs. But she knew which one would give her the edge to open a portal in the event she needed to make a quick escape, since apparently shadow jumping was off the table.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said.
“Into the viper’s den we go.”
They left their meeting space and stepped up to the entrance to the ballroom. The ball was in full swing. They’d arrived late to give Dozan’s spies time to infiltrate the party and set up a sufficient perimeter. It would be foolish to step inside the room of their enemy and hope for the best. They had come with their weapons raised, ready for a fight.
The door swung wide, and a short woman dressed in the black-and-silver livery of the House of Shadows called out, “His Royal Majesty, King Fordham Ollivier of House Charbonnet, called the House of Shadows, and his betrothed and our future queen, Lady Kerrigan Argon, first of the House of Cruse of House Bryonica.”
A hush fell over the crowd as Fordham stepped forward with Kerrigan at his side. “Now.”
With a breath, she reached deep into her well of magic. It answered with a soft thrum that nearly made her weep every time it was successful. Weeks without her magic made her never take her renewed gift for granted. But this wasn’t her own magic she was reaching for. She crossed the bridge that connected her to Fordham and found the thread of black at his center—the ability that was a closely guarded Ollivier secret. Only the Ollivier line had this power in all of Alandria.
Then, with the crush of the crowd’s eyes on her, she tugged that thread. The shadows in the room listened to her hungry, desperate cry. They answered with relish, leaping to her hands, wrapping around her wrists, and crawling like smoke up her arms.
A gasp rang from the crowd. The nearest group of female Fae scurried backward a few steps away from her, fear written on their carefully made-up faces. They ran into another set of Fae, who took a shocked step backward and braced the terrified women to keep them from fully fleeing.
Fordham took her hand and let the shadows crawl up his arm and pool into his other hand. The pair of them in black and silver, wreathed in Ollivier shadow magic, was a sight to behold. One of terror, based on the faces of those assembled. It was sooner than they’d wanted to display this ability to Fordham’s subjects, but with the threat from Barron and Viviana evident, they’d agreed that this was the easiest show of strength.