Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
His pleasant tone scraped my nerve endings raw. My hands curled into fists, nails biting skin. I moved my attention to Jasher, standing only a few paces away. Tension roiled off him.
I licked dry, cracked lips. “You warned me our tables would turn.”
“You should have listened.” A note of burning fury hid within his cold, hard tone.
Hope sparked. Did I sense regret, too? A chance to win him over? I searched his face, but it was like reading a book written in a language I’d only just learned. Regret, yes, coupled with something I couldn’t yet name. But beneath it all, resolve. Icy, final—terrifying.
No matter his feelings for me, he would do whatever Ian commanded.
Sorrow carved a path through my bones. Though he’d ditched me, a little piece of my heart had clung to the idea of reconciliation. Now, that idea went up in flames.
Inhale. Exhale. I wasn’t out for the count. And I wasn’t alone. Just then, I felt as if the ghost of dream Elowen materialized beside me. She clasped my hand. We will overcome.
Resolute, I shifted my focus to Ian. “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to explain why I’m here.”
“It would be my pleasure,” he said, all indulgence and kindness. He smiled. “I’m going to kill you, Princess Moriah. Just as I will kill Ahav and Sandrine.”
My breath caught, my gaze darting to Jasher, who peered beyond me, stone-faced. “At least tell me why,” I said, stalling. Thinking, planning. Realizing. My best option? When an opportunity presented itself, I would pretend to have a vision that ensured he needed me.
“Even though I know you seek only to delay the inevitable, I find I’m eager to share with someone.” Ian adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “I was five years old when my father worked in the catacombs. He took me with him some days, with the promise I would remain by his side. But he got busy, and I grew bored. I always wandered the twisting halls.”
I knew it! “You found Andrea.”
“Close, but no. I fell into a cavern… and found Morris. His bones, at least. They draped an altar, where Andrea once laid. He’d attempted to shield her from the cave-in. All that remained of her were shards of monstra shells.”
Click. A puzzle piece locked in place. The mysterious shells Ahav had written of. The ones Morris used to preserve Andrea. “That’s how you made more monstra.”
He arched a brow as Jasher often did. “Shall I continue or let you fill in the blanks?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line.
He waited a moment longer, just to be contrary. “Unfortunately, the bones disintegrated when I touched them, but within minutes, the Ring of Truth sprang forth. Centuries spent in contact with the Ember had affected him, I suppose. It was then that She Is Near appeared to me. She helped me see. Told me what to do. Gave me a purpose.” His voice sharpened into a blade, his gaze leveled on me. “The Ori’Emets must be wiped out. Payment for a past we can never escape.”
“Sin,” I said with a shudder. The shadow siren.
“My Sin.” He snapped his fingers at Jasher, who unhooked a pair of cuffs from a loop on the waist of his leathers.
“The compulsion cuffs.” Panic detonated, flinging shrapnel across my nerve endings. I shoved my arms behind my back, as if that would stop the inevitable punishment.
Once, I’d put Jasher in chains. Told us both it was necessary. That I was doing what must be done. I remembered his rage. Now our roles were reversed, exactly as he’d promised, and oh, payback sucked.
Jasher crossed the distance in three strides. The metal glinted in his grip. He stopped when only a single breath separated us. Close enough that I felt the heat of his body, smelled the smoke clinging to his skin.
I regarded him coolly, daring him to look at me while he hobbled me for the man intending to murder me. Wishing Elowen wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, but an actual flesh and blood woman, here to fight our way free.
Jasher did not accept the challenge. Did not back down. His touch landed, not harsh as I expected but as gentle as rain, burning hotter than a summer sun, and devastating what was left of my trust. With great care, he closed his fingers around my wrists, pressing his thumbs into my pulse, as if memorizing the rhythm of my life before we said goodbye forevermore.
My shattered heart ached. Muscles trembled, tendons screamed. Water surged under my skin, desperate to answer my sudden call for help, only to slip away like mist.
“It’s not too late.” My voice cracked. “We can fight him. You and me. Together.” I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “He meant what he said. He’ll kill me if I wear these shackles. I’ve seen it.”