Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
A dark garden sprouts on both sides of the river, full of columns and statues. They don’t look maintained, but there’s a sense of romance to this landscape, as if I’m about to stand in the lost city of Pompeii.
A second silhouette emerges from behind a fountain in measured steps. This man has no wings, but his long hair cascades down his chest like gilded fabric. He stands tall. His eyes shine like twin sapphires. His navy cloak is fastened at the front with a brooch reminiscent of a large gate covered in thorns. When I nod at him, unsure about the proper way to greet angels, his gaze narrows.
“He won’t do.”
My lips open, but what am I supposed to say to that? Should I unzip my hoodie and show them the trembling puppy so they see me as worthy of… whatever this incredible place is?
Once we settle on the ground, the red-haired man’s wings lose their shape and turn into a dark fog. He clears his throat, still holding me as if I weigh nothing. “With all due respect, Captain… what am I supposed to do? Throw him back in? We’ve been here all night, and you have almost drowned four times—”
“Look at his shadow, Tristan! It’s barely darker than a moth’s wing. So yes, throw him back in.”
I peek at the river, see the hands clawing at air, and the sense of doom I’ve felt in its waters comes back like a punch to the stomach. I grab my savior’s neck harder and press the top of my head to his throat. I feel like that puppy trembling inside my hoodie, at the mercy of the person holding me.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but please don’t take me back there!”
Tristan nods, soft eyes meeting mine with a sense of calm that soothes the trembling sensation inside. And I believe him. He will protect me. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” He then looks back at his superior with determination. “Captain, this isn’t a fishing trip. This is destiny at work. The Lord of the Nocturne Court wouldn’t stand for meddling with the threads of fate.”
“Oh, and because he’s your cousin, I’m supposed to feel threatened?” The man’s eyes narrow as he approaches us.
Tristan shakes his head. “You do say yourself that I can be loose-lipped. I can’t vouch that my tongue won’t slip.”
“Fine. I guess this is it then. I’ll work with this… subpar material.”
I don’t understand. My throat closes as the golden-haired stranger leans down in something reminiscent of a courtly bow. I have so, so many questions, but then he picks at the shadow I’m casting and pulls up a single thread.
With his other hand, he peels a dark strand straight off his own scalp and brings the two together. I’m trembling, and a cold sensation crawls up my throat when the beautiful man rubs his hands together in an elegant gesture reminiscent of wiping dust off one’s skin.
I heave the moment his palms part, revealing that the two threads have now merged, but Tristan gently pulls my head to his shoulder, shushing me.
“It’s all right. This shall pass.”
It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it to me, but what do I know? This must be a strange dream. My body shakes from the cold stabbing every bit of my wet skin by the time the stranger seems content enough with his strange ritual. I don’t dare complain and just keep trembling in Tristan’s sturdy arms.
The blue eyes settle on me once more, and I’m desperate to say something, anything that would turn the scowl on the man’s lips into a smile, but he’s right back to focusing on his subordinate. “You will fetch him for me.”
“Would you not like to stay to—”
“Just make sure he drinks the potion.” The ‘captain’ walks off with a swish of his cloak so dramatic I get to see some of silver stars embroidered on the underside.
“Yes, sir,” Tristan says, putting me down. We watch his superior mount a horse in the distance, and the moment he rides out of our sight, Tristan gives me an honest grin. “I can’t wait. I barely ever get to see the human realm.”
I frown, shaking more and more. Even my teeth are starting to rattle now, and the world sways as if I have no energy to keep standing. “What?”
Tristan stares at me for a moment, then makes a deep bow. “Where are my manners? Welcome to the Nightmare Realm. I am Prince Tristan Bloodweed, Knight of Grief Ocean, Warden of the Realm, First Lieutenant of the Nightcloaks.” He straightens and winks at me. “I also happen to hold the title of the fastest rider in last year’s kelpie race, both on land and in the sea.”
It’s overwhelming, but my grandparents raised me right, so I offer him my hand, cringing when I see how violently it trembles. “N-nathan Kekoa. Nate. Winner of Wilson Elementary's spelling bee? That was years ago though… What is happening?”