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)
She didn’t let her gaze snag on it, and couldn’t do anything about the flare of sea-green from within a mundane-looking rock nestled in the middle of the jubilee.
Someone sucked in a breath. They all leaned in urgently. Another pointed.
The leader hastened over, snatching the object from among the others and pulling it in close. His eyes widened a fraction, and a faint buzz signified the object in his possession had started to perform its magic.
“It is true,” the leader whispered in awe as all of them shuffled closer or leaned in to see. “I feel its power.”
His gaze flicked to her and stuck, as though he were thinking something through. He turned, and the others fell back, their gazes landing on her as well, waiting for something.
The leader approached her, the smell of kelp and sea salt permeating the air. He held out the mundane rock, still glowing merrily.
“Take it,” he said, shaking the object at her.
The energy it took to bite back a snarky remark nearly undid her. Her hands and legs were bound, for fuck’s sake. What did he think she was going to do, inchworm over on her face and take it in her teeth?
“Wh-why?” she said, at a loss for what she was meant to do. She was used to an intelligent captor, not…whatever was going on with this donkey show. “Why me?”
His nostrils flared in annoyance. He motioned at her handler.
Her handler took a step and backhanded her across the face.
Fu-cking hell!
She let the inertia carry her back into the dirt, crying out for reals. Her teeth cut into her lip. A trickle of blood slid down her chin, and she snaked her tongue out to instinctually assess the damage. That fucker had a good swing.
His boot fit into the middle of her back, pressing her front into the ground. She breathed heavily, taking stock of the placement of her limbs for evasive measures in case they got rougher and she might be in danger of popping a shoulder out of joint. They clearly would not care.
Her cheek rested against the cold ground. She could barely see the leader approach and bend down to her side to fit the rock into her hands. Its thrum of power ran up the length of her arm and shivered into the rest of her body, not doing anything more than it had in his hands.
Ah, now she got it. They wanted her to point out the crystal chalice. They wanted her to receive its painful jolt of power. This was turning into a really bad fucking day.
The leader grunted and straightened again. “Try the rest of them. Keep only what works—”
He cut off. His right boot scraped the ground as he turned, and he immediately tensed, as though there were danger near.
She tried to arch up to see what was going on, but the boot at her back kept her mostly put. She scarcely noticed movement in the inky darkness between the trees. Then she saw a dim light. It drew nearer, a phosphorus glow slowly swinging back and forth.
A man—or what passed for one—drifted into the firelight, and she just barely contained a hasty intake of breath.
She couldn’t make out details in the darkness, but she knew his vibrant green gaze sought her out. The plane of his face turned her way, a metallic sheen covering his chest, and his limbs gleamed in the firelight.
“You have something that belongs to me,” the fae male said in a cultured voice with a dangerous edge.
Shit.
Her villain in shining armor had come to reclaim her.
14
“Tarian,” the leader said, the name sounding regal and grand within the accent. Lofty. The tremor of nervousness in his voice was unmistakable.
She knew how he felt, but not because of a name or whatever position he held. She could’ve gotten away from these morons, she knew it. They weren’t bright, they couldn’t read her mind, they’d easily fallen for her antics, and they had absolutely underestimated her. All she’d needed was a direction, time, and a distraction, and she would’ve been long gone.
The kissing assassin—Tarian—was the complete opposite, and he knew how to track her down. Her odds of escaping had just shriveled before her eyes. She was at his mercy.
Tarian’s focus slid from her to her captors. His body stayed loose, his beautiful, glowing sword hanging at his side.
The boot disappeared from her back, allowing her to shift so she could better see. The leader licked his lips, glancing down at the stone he held, then at the collection of other items on the stretcher.
“You misunderstand the situation,” the leader said urgently. “Your king expressed an interest in an alliance with Queen Liora. I am simply checking the validity of his claims. Given what I’ve seen—”
“I think you misunderstand.” Tarian offered a lazy, arrogant smile. It didn’t hide the violence that screamed in every line of his body. “The human female is mine.” He tsked. “And it seems you’ve mishandled my property.”