Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Rynthea steps back, searching for something. Her scythesword is floating near one of the swamp edges. When she snatches it up, she inspects the blade. “We need to get back to the middle path. That swamp monster was only a sample of what lurks in Delchester.”
She gives Thane a sideways glance before walking past him.
Thane motions his hands toward the water to call his swords. They fly out rapidly, the hilts slamming into his palms before he tucks them away in a seamless motion.
Algar meets up to Thane. “She’ll learn to trust you. You just have to give her time.”
“Was saving her life not enough?” Thane’s question is genuine.
Algar offers a helpless shrug before following Rynthea.
When they’re out of earshot, Thane tilts his face to the sky, takes a large inhale, and exhales.
“You saved her. She won’t forget that.” I step closer to him, watching as he rakes his fingers through his soaked hair. “I didn’t think either of you would— I mean…” I sigh. “I’m just glad you made it out alive.”
“Yeah.” His gaze shifts to me. “Smart call on the gills.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing I love reading about beastial anatomy.”
Thane quirks a brow.
I cough up an awkward laugh, realizing that sounded cheesier than I expected.
He narrows his eyes at me. I can feel the heat of his body as those bold irises focus on my lips. When his fingers clasp my chin, I hold my breath, focusing on his lips, too.
My mouth tingles, anticipating something I’m not sure I need but know I want. My body is craving his touch. Why?
When his lips are only a hair’s breadth away, he says, “You disregarded rule number one.”
I blink, confused. “What?”
“‘Keep your kind gestures to yourself because they’ll only get you killed,’” he reiterates.
Oh.
“You have to stop trying to help people, Quinlocke. You do realize that if you’d stayed on the main path, none of this ever would’ve happened, right?”
Ah. So we’re back on a condescending last-name basis. Gods, he’s so confusing. Frustrated, I try to pull my face out of his hands, but he won’t let go.
His eyes spark with gold, burning with a hint of frustration, too. “You could’ve died,” he rasps. “All of us could’ve died for someone you thought you could save. Even if he had been real, how were you going to help him? How, when you can’t even save yourself?”
We stare at each other, me fighting the urge to cry again, and him seeming more disappointed by the second.
Finally, he lets his hand drop away, and my stomach sinks. His clear disappointment bothers me more than it should. Why do I care what he thinks of me? He has no right to judge.
He looks me over from head to toe while shaking his head. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember that…” He pauses. “That you’re this sheltered woman who doesn’t understand the true dangers of this world. Algar and Rynthea? They know what it’s like to be threatened—to try and help someone, only to be fucked over. But you… Fuck. You wear your heart on your sleeve, Quinlocke, and that’ll get you killed one day. You may think your bravery will save you, but it won’t. This I know for a fact.”
“How would you know anything about bravery?” I retort as heat rises to my cheeks. “You live your life as an arrogant assassin.” I whisper-hiss the last word, not wanting it to carry to Rynthea and Algar. “All you care about is killing, shutting people out, and making others feel inferior to you. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to care about others because all you care about is yourself, Thane.”
His mouth opens, as if he’s about to say something in defense, but just as quickly, it snaps shut and he steps back. Jaw clenched, he closes his eyes and inhales. After exhaling, he peels his eyes open and settles them on me again.
“I don’t have to explain who I am to you,” he responds in a lower voice. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost sounds hurt. “You didn’t pay me to be your friend. You paid me to keep you alive.” He shoves a dagger into one of the sheaths in his vest. “What does it matter? There’s no point in arguing with a naive woman.”
My eyebrows incline. “Naive?”
“Yes, naive.”
“I’m not as naive as you think,” I counter as he turns his back to me.
“Whatever. Let’s just go.”
I steel myself as he treks forward and start to say something else just to have the last word, but he stops and says, “For once, listen to me, and return to the middle path.”
He stands sideways, pointing in the direction Rynthea and Algar have gone, jaw flexed, nostrils flaring. With a grimace, I storm past him, but not without purposely bumping into his arm. He doesn’t budge, but he does release an irritated huff.