Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
And here was another reason he’d formed an alliance with Jon. The shifter king had possession of the stone. A little fact the kraken king left out when he explained the situation to me. But I understood. I’d been an unknown then, and he was as strategic as his grandmother.
“Your woman better complete her part at convergence.” Fury coated the shifter’s words. “Jokull is recruiting merkind, and their numbers grow daily. If you can’t kill the primordial, I’ll have no choice but to join him and end you.”
Sebastian’s arm tightened around me. He guided me from the area, through the warehouse.
I pressed my hands over my stomach. Everything hinged on me.
Chapter
Ten
A kraken is only dangerous three days a week. Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
–An Incomplete Guide to Kraken Survival
Another car ride, this one accomplished in total silence as Sebastian typed furiously on his phone.
I let him work, though I didn’t know who he communicated with or what he ordered. From my angle, the screen appeared blank. I didn’t mind. I used the opportunity to sit with my thoughts, going over everything I’d learned.
In four days—closer to three, really, with the day nearly spent—the outer sea tide, the inner dome tide, and the moon’s pull would fall into perfect sync, awakening the rune. For a short window, I must listen to its whisper and respond. Somehow, this rune would imbue him with enough power to defeat the first-ever kraken berserker. A monster who’d eaten his finger and taunted him about it.
“Are you ready for our date, Brona?”
His low, smoky voice snapped my gaze up. He’d stored his phone. Had emerged from the car and even filled the open doorway, peering down at me. Amusement curved the corners of his mouth.
“Ja. And nein. I’m worrying about the runes again,” I muttered in Japanese, lest any listening ears were hanging around. “Three open-ended details remain. The price for using it. What it actually does. How you used it to drive out the primordial the first time.”
As I spoke, he removed his glove. After pocketing the leather, he cupped the side of my throat. Skin to skin. I gasped as the pad of his thumb drew circles around my hammering pulse, reminding me of a predator closing in on prey. Slow, measured, intent.
“Jokull cannot be killed. Even when he loses his head, he regenerates. But the rune will stop all regeneration.”
He used his native tongue.
“Come.” He offered me that same hand, and I accepted, reeling. “I will tell you the story about driving him out when we are inside.”
Goose bumps broke out as I rose. Cool, salty air tried to kiss me, but his sizzling heat chased it away. Only a whisper of space between us as he led me forward.
A colossal building towered before us. A monument that could have been dredged from the ocean floor, fashioned from black stone shot through with veins of deep blue crystal, the surface carved in sweeping, wavelike patterns that seemed to move. Tall columns flanked the entrance, their bases resembling coiled tentacles that disappeared into shadow.
Whatever this place was, it wasn’t meant to bring comfort.
We started forward, still hand in hand. Two armed guards opened the door for us, and we sailed inside a lobby lit by bioluminescent panels set into the walls. The floor glowed soft indigo and sea-green.
I scanned the lobby. We were the only beings present. The dome overhead revealed churning, murky waters. That alone would have held my attention captive save for the lone work of art that loomed just beyond the threshold: a massive sculpture carved from a single slab of obsidian coral, depicting a kraken king rising from the depths, crown cracked, tentacles flared and curling at the ends. Fractures in the stone glimmered with faint light, as if the piece still remembered the violence that shaped it.
A strange pressure settled behind my eyes, as if the sculpture looked back at me.
“Who is he?” Definitely not Sebastian. The facial bones were far too sharp.
“The primordial,” he replied. “His image serves as a reminder of what we can lose if ever we surrender our strength.”
I peered at the visage with new eyes, noting previously missed details. The crown wasn’t merely cracked but crushed inward, as if by a force applied from within. One tentacle hung severed mid-coil, the break jagged rather than clean, while another curled protectively around what might be a pile of bones near the base.
Whose bones were those?
My throat wobbled, and I tightened my grip on Sebastian’s hand. This wasn’t a portrait of power alone, but a warning wrapped around loss.
As he led me away, he said, “Jon and I began training to join Jokull’s army at ten. We were friends then. As close as brothers.” He inhaled sharply. “When I emerged as king, he transitioned to my second-in-command. I trusted him with much. Too much.” His tone iced. “He stole the rune.”