Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
He glanced down at her, and his expression cleared. “That’s the darkrend taken care of. We’re free to—” His gaze shot back to the window. His whole body tensed, and he moved quickly, running his hand through the air. The sound from outside rushed back in, wind shaking the leaves, wings beating against the sky. He’d taken down the ward.
Confused, she looked back out and started. Three Celestials were coming their way, their long, straight hair blowing back from their faces, skin so smooth it looked like she was viewing them through a soft focus lens. Their clothes were elegant and refined, declaring sensibility and nobility even though two of the three were heavily splattered in a strange, greenish goo. The creature’s blood, maybe, or a defense she’d never seen.
“Get away from the window!” Tarian barked, and magic shoved her back.
She reached out to brace her hand on the wall.
He’d stepped into his pants and now donned the tunic he’d worn last night.
“Come here. Quickly.” He beckoned to her, and she complied. “Here.” He draped her garment over her head and helped her into it before bending with her and directing her under the bed. “Hide. Quickly. Do not show yourself, no matter what. I’ll cover you with magic to hide the stamp of the crystal chalice.”
“I thought once we were beyond the Faegate, we were safe here.”
“I am safe here, as a fae. You are a human who doesn’t belong and who slashed a few wings and punctured a few Celestial bodies. They won’t be as inclined to give you impunity.”
She slid under, grabbing her panties as she did so. He moved toward the door, though she was only able to see his boots and then his ankles. No sooner had he reached it, a knock came.
The door swung open, allowing in a blast of chilly morning air fresh with the scent of blooming flowers and crisp green flora.
“What is it?” Tarian asked in a cold voice laced with authority.
“Pardon me, your—” The female voice cut off, the tone going from apologetic to utterly confused. Her voice then hardened to commanding. “What is the nature of this outpost?”
“It is a lawfully established way station belonging to the Obsidian Court, brokered by me, Tarianthiel Drystan Windryker, stationed prince of the Obsidian Throne, bearer of the five seals and carrier of royal, unseelie magic. If you had been doing your duty and scouting the land as you ought, you would’ve known of this place ages ago. But at least you finally brought down the darkrend, hmm? One only needed patience, it seems. That creature had obviously been twisted for some time. Out of balance. It destroyed one of my buildings. I’ll be seeking compensation from your Dusk Sentinel. Now, don’t trouble me again. I have important matters to see to.”
Daisy’s world bled of color as silence met Tarian’s response. One of the Celestials offered a crisp retort, but Daisy’s ears had started ringing. A prince? She’d been captured by a fucking prince? No wonder his power level and magical ability were off the charts. No wonder he had the mindgazer magic. He was at the top of the kingdom’s hierarchy.
Her status as a toy, as a pawn in his political games, took on a more dangerous edge. He wasn’t just a player. He could rig the game.
“A prince, yes,” Tarian said softly, crouched next to the bed. He flattened to the floor so he could look in at her. The door had been shut, the Celestials apparently appeased and on their way. She hadn’t noticed. “A lofty title for someone who is little more than a thief for that court.”
“So am I, but I don’t have a crown to affix when I go to work.”
He didn’t crack a grin. So serious. So somber. “You should.”
She shook her head before resting her forehead against her forearms. Her situation seemed so much bleaker.
“You said the Obsidian Throne was set to be inherited by rotten, strategizing children. The scourge of the realm.”
“Yes. And it holds true.”
“Yet, to have that title, are you not one of those children?”
“I was not born into this title. I was given it. Trapped with it. Taunted by it. My power granted me admittance, among other things. I am not in line for the crown. They would not suffer my sitting on their throne. I am exactly as you thought, Daisy. A powerful thief with a title to open doors. An errand boy for royalty. A crook. A murderer. A jester who doesn’t tell jokes, but who is one. I am their blunt tool, and they titled me for the pleasure of their disdain.”
“And the king and queen?”
“They are no parents of mine.” The viciousness of his tone washed cold down her spine. “Come on,” he said. “It’s time we go.”