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)
“When is the rescue mission? When do we leave?”
“There is no mission currently planned.”
Torben’s eyes fired silvery, his fury erupting; he seized the table and hurled it aside. Chairs and trenchers flew. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d react exactly like this. You’re already stretched thin—Dagny near her time, your Berserkerage close to breaking.” Right now he hovered at the brink.
“Don’t you dare say I’m compromised!”
Arctos gestured at the debris. “A curious way of proving you’re not.”
“Make me understand this. The queen knows that vampires use Berserkers as godsdamned food. Even if she can ignore the suffering of her people, she can’t ignore the scalding insult of it!” Torben began to pace, each turn sharper than the last. “Why hasn’t she ordered a rescue?”
“She has reasons. Reservations. I’m not privy to her thoughts.”
“Or she doesn’t trust what your vampire says.”
“Maybe.”
“Look at Yrsa’s other choices,” Torben pressed. “She could send you to the Helter and let you blaze through to ohalla. If she gave you leave to journey to the Kingdom of Rhun, you could become immortal with a single demon duel.”
“I have enough to handle with Emilia’s training,” Arctos said, a thin excuse even to his own ears.
“Still loyal,” Torben spat. “You have to wake up.”
Arctos’s own anger flared. “Loyalty means holding firm when it’s tested. Otherwise it’s not loyalty at all. How can you ignore our history? We wouldn’t exist without her. We wouldn’t have thrived without her. The first channeler led our people here.”
“Were you loyal when you hid Emilia’s escape attempt?” Torben shot back. “When you asked me to help conceal it?”
A gust of breath. “No. I wasn’t.” The admission only hinted at the conflict inside him.
Torben let the point drop—merciful, for once. “You should be able to demand answers of your queen.”
“And if I do? If I uncover proof she’s compromised, do we assassinate her? Split the clan? You’d risk Dagny, your child, now?”
Torben froze, expression filled with conflicting wrath and reason. His fingers trembled slightly, as if the effort to be still cost him.
Arctos continued, “Have you forgotten what Yrsa is like on a battlefield when she is in full Berserkerage? Her power is near mythic. And she’s surrounded by guards who would die for her bear.”
Torben’s gaze sharpened. “Are you in love with her?”
Arctos blinked. “No.” The word came out rough. His feelings were complicated—but love? No. “I’m trying to be sensible. One of us must keep our remaining family safe.”
The silvery rage left Torben’s eyes, leaving bewilderment. He swayed slightly, as if drained by the force of his own fury. “What will it take to make you see?” he rasped. “Brother…when will you wake?”
Chapter 42
Ditch
Twenty days till the Hunter’s Moon
A knock on the door.
Fantastic. Meek Meera had returned again—no doubt hovering with her information binders and worries. For a week, the mousy witch had tried to corner her for an audience, but Ditch had been plotting Witchwood defenses.
She intended to contain certain Craigdúr wolves in their cages, but she’d also devised gruesomely fun traps for any who thought to aggress her.
The Hunter’s Moon promised so much pleasure but would bring such pain to those who didn’t behave.
The wolves weren’t her only concern. Though Bloodreach’s royal vampires might be neutered, two demon kings still loomed, reigning over their unruly denizens with baffling efficiency.
She didn’t yet know what they wanted. Or the shifters. Or, gods forbid, the Furies. She’d heard that a bulging nest of them was located on the outskirts of Valhalland. What if those flying she-avengers woke from hibernation and targeted Ditch for past misdeeds?
She had also been keeping herself busy, so she didn’t dwell on Thane’s remarkable self-restraint. He hadn’t even considered surrendering his throne for her, had basically said, “Yeah, no.” Or, in his case, “Aye, nay.”
Ditch understood Thane’s reasoning, but she’d thought she’d made more of an irresistible impression on him. Her tail flicked, sparking.
Am I losing my touch? Even a female as superlative as Ditch could feel disposable after having once been disposed of so thoroughly as a pup.
Another knock, more insistent.
Might as well get this over with. And Ditch was curious how much food they had. “Come in.”
Meera shuffled in, looking wounded. “When you went missing a week ago, I scried for you and found you in the Helter. Um, could you perhaps let me know when you leave the territory for something deadly?”
Ditch blinked at her. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m, uh, second-in-command.”
“You?” Laugh. “And not Rosewyn the Banehand? How strange.”
Meera’s mouth tightened. “I’m responsible for maintaining governance until the House sends a replacement high priestess.”
Another laugh. “No one else is taking my position. And you should never count me out unless my head is next to my body. And even then, don’t. Just. Don’t. Do it.”
Meera swallowed. “O-okay. Um, in the overview binder I made for you, I outlined the many, many reasons why the Helter is dangerous. Will you please tell me why you journeyed to the land of the undead? A quarantine zone?”