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)
“You’ll die either way,” Barron said, holding his sword pointed at Fordham’s chest. “And I’ll smile to watch your dragon fall with you.”
Kerrigan dove out of the way as another lightning bolt rocketed toward them. Fordham had jumped in the other direction. Three jumps. How many more did he have? They were short distances, and Fordham was stronger than ever, but Barron didn’t know that. He seemed to be trying to prolong this bout so that Fordham was worn down. Kerrigan couldn’t let that happen.
“No one would accept you as king,” she taunted, her shield pulled up tight around her. The lightning crackled against its surface before the shield shattered. She shrieked and threw herself sideways, narrowly avoiding the blast.
“Everyone will accept the Fae who kills the king,” Barron boasted.
But Kerrigan had been the distraction, and Fordham jumped behind Barron. His blade slid forward through flesh and blood and bone. Barron cried out in pain, but then his hand clamped down on the blade. Blood flowed from his palm as he lit the sword up with lightning.
Fordham yelled as the strike hit him true and he dropped the sword. He shook his hand out as he stumbled back and fell to a knee, his head hanging low.
“Ford!” she cried.
The current had zapped through him quicker than either of them could blink, but it had hit Barron as well. He was on his knees, wrenching the blade from his side, blood flowing down his uniform. He came slowly to his feet. His white hair was fried and sticking up as he turned to face his opponent.
“Long live Laurent,” Barron snarled as he raised his sword to deal the final blow.
“No!” Kerrigan shrieked.
She didn’t know how it happened, didn’t take the moment to think about the consequences. She grasped the shadows like a warm blanket and threw them over her head. She was underneath, in the dark nothing, a blink of black that was all encompassing. When Fordham used the shadows, she had always gone directly from one place to the next, but as she wielded them herself, she could see that other place that existed within the shadows.
She stepped out on the other side, having shadow-jumped the dozen feet to stand between Fordham and Barron’s blade. It sliced into her shoulder at the same moment as she wielded enough fire to burn down the world.
Barron shrieked as it scorched through his face, clothes, and skin all in one fell swoop—the fire she held back for so long unleashed on the person who had threatened to kill her most beloved. Fordham fell back as he called desperately for a healer.
Kerrigan dropped to the ground as the pain in her shoulder came back to her all at once. “Oh gods.”
“Audria,” Fordham yelled.
“I’m coming!”
Fordham pressed a kiss to her head. “Breathe, love. One, two…”
Then the sword was pulled from her shoulder with a shriek. Kerrigan could barely see as Fordham took Barron’s own blade and stalked toward the horribly burned figure.
“Prescott was better than you ever were,” Fordham said right before lopping Barron’s head off.
It rolled in the grass and came to rest a few feet away. The open-mouthed terror still shone in his eyes and the burned visible jawline.
Audria’s water magic touched Kerrigan’s shoulder, a soothing more than a healing, but she would take anything over the searing pain.
Fordham dropped to a knee at her side. “Must you always put yourself in danger?”
“Hey,” she choked out. “I saved your life.”
“You shadow-jumped.”
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
“Impressive.”
She laughed and then winced as the pain magnified. “Have to keep up with you.”
“Come on. I’ll shadow-jump you to Amond,” he said, sliding his hands under her legs and shoulders. “Unless you want to do the honors.”
She cried out as she was lifted into the air. “Ass.”
He chuckled as he took them into the shadows.
***
“All hail His Royal Majesty King Fordham Ollivier!”
All the nobility assembled were on their feet, applauding his ascension. The silver crown was nestled in his dark locks. A ceremonial sword was in one hand, and the other held a silver-and-emerald scepter. He held them up as the cheers rang all around him.
Kerrigan had been healed by a rattled and slightly drugged Amond. So much for giving up loch entirely. He’d had to take a dose recently to help with the healing of her father. She wasn’t sure he would have been able to heal Prescott if they’d managed to bring him. He’d barely been able to settle Kerrigan’s shoulder, and it was just a wound from a blade, not magical.
Another problem for another day.
For now, she was seated to Fordham’s left in her shiny silver gown. If there was an objection to her presence, it wasn’t felt due to the overwhelming support for Fordham’s reign—killing Barron had done the trick.
The congregation filtered into a ballroom where a party was going to go on all night. Fordham was supposed to be there to let his subjects bestow gifts on him and his family. Kerrigan could tell he was barely holding it together, that he would not make it a whole night in the presence of the noble Fae of the House of Shadows.