Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Fingers curled around my leg. “Did you see Seneca?”
Peering down at Bevan, I swallowed, feeling my expression sober.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as grief tightened his features. “Right.” He released my leg, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. “Fuck,” he bit out.
Beside him, Sable flinched. Pale and wide-eyed, she sat with her legs drawn up tight to her body in a protective position.
I headed to a spot near Lear and plopped my butt down on the hard ground. Neither of us spoke. I didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to even think. I needed to just let my mind go quiet for a while.
I needed to not wonder what the hell had happened in that lair.
My posture tiredly slumping, I drained the last of my drink just as Talon squatted in front of me. Pleased to see him, I tried mustering a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. Not that he noticed. He was busy mentally cataloging each of my injuries, his face hardening to stone.
I should likely be mortified that he’d seen me looking a complete wreck, covered in all kinds of gunk and smelling amazing. But I couldn’t find it in me to care. It seemed too trivial a matter after all I’d just experienced.
He glanced over his shoulder and let out a sharp whistle that seemed to be the whistle-equivalent of Ajax’s name, because only the Marshall ever responded to it. Right then, the male strode over with a small sack and handed it to Talon. Ajax gave me a nod of what could have been respect and then melted away.
When Talon took a large water pouch out of the sack, I honestly wanted to kiss him. I wouldn’t, of course, because my lips were a mess. He curved a hand around my own to steady it and topped up the pouch I held.
“Thank you,” I rasped.
Hard eyes met mine, his lips pressed into an annoyed slash. I couldn’t tell what irritated him more—my injuries, or how much the sight of them bothered him.
Tickled by that, I stifled a smile and knocked back more water.
He dug a cloth out of the sack, soaked it in water, set down the large pouch, and then fished out a tub of salve that both disinfected and numbed wounds.
I gratefully held out my hand. So many aches and stings were making themselves known, and pulses of hot pain were rippling down the burns on my side.
Talon begrudgingly gave me the cloth and salve. He wanted to tend to my wounds himself like he’d done yesterday, I realized. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that he resisted, nor was I upset. Here in this context, he was the Order’s Cardinal, not a man I bedded.
He remained where he was as I cleaned and lathered salve on my injuries, only helping when I’d needed aid removing my boots. How the muscles of his legs weren’t spasming with the strain of staying in that same position for so long, I could only accredit to the whole immortal package.
“Done.” I handed over the salve but kept the now-rotten cloth, since no one else would have a use for it. “Thanks.”
Talon tossed the tub back in the sack, along with the large pouch. His gaze serious on mine, he gave the uninjured side of my neck a quick squeeze and then stood.
Watching him walk away, I again found my brain replaying the little snippets I had of him running through the labyrinth as a child. Had that been one of the ways the Sovereigns had gone about ridding him of fear? Or a form of punishment they had used, maybe?
I jolted on hearing a loud cough, still so on edge that my skin felt sore. Silently willing my pulse to slow its roll, I exhaled a long sigh. I thought about putting my boots back on but quickly discarded the idea. The soles were wrecked anyway, and I’d prefer to let the air get at the wounds on my feet.
I shifted a little in a fruitless attempt to make myself comfier, knowing I’d be here a while. Only six candidates had entered the labyrinth before me.
“Thank Gods Xalbia ends with the caverns,” began Lear, her voice low, “because I could not handle one more thing, physically or emotionally.”
“Me neither,” I confessed, letting my head droop forward as I closed my heavy eyelids. I felt the backs of my eyes sting. I wanted to cry, and I had no idea why. Maybe I was just so tanked up on emotions that I needed the release.
As the time ticked by, more and more of the other candidates exited the labyrinth. Our pouches were regularly refilled, and lots of bread and cheese was passed around. No small rations this time.
Not much talking went on during those hours. Just some brief, whispered conversations here and there.