Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
“Fine. I vow to the Lore that I won’t summon you if bitten or scratched.”
“Second: Don’t summon me mid-battle. I’ve traced into too many bloodbaths that way.”
So she couldn’t draw his symbols in the midst of a conflict? “Fair. I’ll clear the room first.”
“Last,” he said, eyes dark with something almost like pity, “payment in advance.”
“Why?” Her skin prickled at his sad smile. The Accession moved in silence, unseen, but Ditch could feel its current curling around her like smoke.
“Ah, beautiful demonkin. Odds are you’re never coming back.”
Chapter 31
Meera
“Ditch wants you and the Riders to audit our food stores,” Meera told Rosewyn.
The young witch was still healing from her encounter with two Valkyries. Fresh bandages wrapped the stumps of a regenerating arm and leg, the air thick with the scent of witch salve.
Rose froze mid-sprawl on the velvet sofa in her cottage. “Does she know about the cattle?”
Meera only shrugged.
With a hissed breath, Rose shoved herself upright, wincing as a regenerating bone shifted under growing skin. She brushed a tangle of hair from her face with her remaining hand—no braids, no poise, just a wounded predator too proud to show weakness.
How had Meera ever been intimidated by this young witch? She shook her head. “You’ve been immortal for what, like, four years? You had to know your regeneration would be glacial at your age, but you still picked a fight with Valkyries?”
Meera wasn’t much older than Rose’s twenty-nine years, wouldn’t heal much faster. But she also wouldn’t be fighting anyone any time soon.
Won’t I? She felt a spike of nerves. Ditch kept ordering her to train, to channel her temper like venom. Yet each time Meera emerged from those sessions, she had less control over her ability.
“Have you found out what Ditch’s powers are?” Rose asked. “Other than desire reading?”
“No.” The demon-witch must get those readings wrong on occasion, because she said Meera desired to be a badass warrior and heroine of her coven.
At that absurd idea, she gnawed her thumbnail before she caught herself. Stop it. She was here in an official capacity! Ditch might call her an assistant, but in truth, she was second-in-command.
Not Rosewyn the Banehand. Not another Rider.
Me.
The thought made Meera queasy. So she imagined telling Lowell about her day, his grin waiting for her worries, his teasing remarks somehow easing them.
Night after night, he’d disarmed her with wit. By their fourth or fifth time together, he’d seduced her out of her pants for kisses.
Wry observations weren’t the only good to come from that mouth.
Am I falling for him?
Probably.
He’d written today that he’d missed her last night, when he’d had to stay in Craigdúr for work. Sigh. She’d reread those words until the parchment softened under her thumbs. And now, even here—surrounded by salve fumes and suspicion—her mind drifted to him.
Rose’s voice cracked the spell: “You’re lying about Ditch. You would have seen some indication of her powers by now.” Her good hand went aglow.
“Ditch won’t say or reveal them. Smart, really. Her enemies are everywhere, including in her own coven.” Meera rubbed her temple. Hecate’s wand, she was ready for this workday to be over.
“You’re starting to admire her!” More glowing. “Already forgot that she murdered Lazara, your mentor for decades?”
“Of course I haven’t,” Meera said. Loyalties and duties pushed and pulled at her until she thought they would tear her apart. The House of Witches. The office of the high priestess. Lowell. “But Akelarre did choose Ditch for a reason.”
Meera wondered if Rose knew how much she had in common with their new leader. Both orphans, both raised by a coven.
As was I. “Maybe instead of fighting Ditch, we should try to understand what the House of Witches ultimately wants.”
Rose scoffed. “If Akelarre sent Ditch to assassinate Lazara, we shouldn’t follow her. If they didn’t, we still shouldn’t follow her. She’s likely a rogue witch. And what’s one duty of the Riders?” She cupped her ear. “That’s right—to execute rogues.”
“How would you kill Ditch? You tried to sic the Valkyries on her because you couldn’t take her yourself.”
“Nobody hexshoots harder than me.” Rose buffed her remaining nails, smug.
“Want to bet your life on that?”
“I’m not afraid of dying.”
“No,” Meera said softly, “you’re afraid of Lykae. To a nightmare degree, it seems.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed. “You talking to the Valkyries now?”
“Everyone in the Skein’s talking.” Nymphs routinely passed through the Witchwood with tales…
Color stained Rose’s high cheekbones. “I’d rather be afraid of Lykae than fucking them.”
Oh, gods, she knows. Ditch must too. Equal footing with divulgences, indeed!
Rose smirked at her silence. “That’s right. Your fearless leader spent last night with King Thane. She’s his mate.” Rose spat the word, couldn’t show her disgust enough.
“What?” Thane the Hungry—subject of Meera’s study—had mated with Ditch? “That’s impossible.”
“It happened, Meera. This very morning, nymphs told me his roar echoed across half the realm, her screams too.”