Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Everything turned crimson, pulling me into it. I fell, tumbling through the many years that rushed by in a whirl of distant memories. Fleeting views of breathtakingly beautiful people with luminous silver eyes glowing with Primal essence. Expressions of either pity or venomous scorn accompanied by smothering…shame—so much shame that it coated my skin and left me feeling as if I’d never be able to wash it away. I briefly saw a man’s scarred profile, his well-shaped lips curving up and causing a dimple to appear—a smile distinctively familiar to me. The images kept coming, one after another, until I felt like I was spinning.
Then it stopped. All of it. And I was…
I was staring at gold bars.
The gold bars of a cage. And beyond that, thick and unyielding darkness.
Sucking in thin breaths that seemed to do nothing, I rocked back. Pressure squeezed my chest as my wide eyes darted left and right. Various gold-trimmed chests were to my left, stacked upon one another. To my right, was an ivory privacy screen and a bed. My chest tightened even further as my fingers curled into something soft. A white fur rug—
My attention snagged on the flimsy, sheer gown covering my legs. Hand shaking, I tugged at the translucent, light-silver material over my stomach.
Where was I?
That question led to a more concerning one.
Who was I?
My hair slid over my shoulders, falling forward as I closed my eyes. I combed through my racing thoughts. They were like a frenzied swarm, buzzing and stinging as I desperately tried to make sense of it all. I was… I was a Primal.
The one those who’d come before feared.
I was the Harbinger and the Bringer the Ancients had dreamed of before the dawn of man.
The Primal of Life and Death.
I knew that.
What I was.
But not who I was.
And I knew those two things were vastly different.
I had to know who I was. How couldn’t I? Who was I?
A tremor coursed through me as I concentrated harder. Words came to me but quickly faded away, slipping between my fingers before I could grasp them. My mouth dried as an immense weight pressed down on my chest, making each breath more difficult than the last.
Forcing my eyes open, I twisted my body toward the bed, my gaze sweeping over gold-and-white sheets, a mound of pillows, and—
Air lodged in my throat.
Inky black chains lay pooled at the foot of the bed, attached to two of the four posts. Chains. Actual chains.
Panic surged through me, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears, suffocating me with each labored breath. The tremors in my arms spread through my entire body. I was trapped. Caged—
A fine shiver raised the hairs along my arms, drawing my gaze to the bare skin. I watched the tiny bumps erupt as I stared. Except for a few freckles scattered about, the skin of my upper arm was smooth, and that didn’t feel right. It shouldn’t be.
The air cooled suddenly and shifted, snapping my head up and forcing my attention to the bars before me. The darkness beyond was no longer empty. Mist had seeped in, rolling across the floor and swirling. Thick tendrils rose like ghostly figures, twisting and swaying. They moved in rhythm as if dancing with one another or guided by an unseen hand.
Chills coursed through me as the figures dipped and swayed, drifting closer to the cage while I remained frozen, unable to look away. Their movements, somehow sensual yet eerie, captivated me. Lured me. I felt myself swaying in tune with them. My eyes started to close—
A prickle of awareness skittered through me just as a faint sound came from deep within the churning mist. I stilled, my heart lurching as I saw how close the specters were. Wisps of their misty forms curled and uncurled, teasing the golden bars. I strained to see between the dancing vapors but couldn’t see anything in the thick, churning mist. Still, I felt it. Watching. Waiting.
I wasn’t alone.
The tendrils of mist crept closer, drifting lazily between the bars, reaching for me. My breaths came in quick, shallow pants as I scooted back and pushed to my feet. It coiled like pale serpents, slipping across the marble tile. I stumbled back as the mist reached me, wrapping around my wrists.
The contact was startling, cold and stinging, sending bolts of static up my arms as thicker strands of mist glided forward, undulating across the floor. Eather stirred within me, pulsing weakly. I tried to summon the essence, but it was too weak. I was weak, unable to pull away or even shake it off. I couldn’t move as the mist slithered up my arms, and the thicker vines of it twisted around my ankles. Move. Move. Move. I couldn’t as the mist spoke, and a hundred—no, thousands—of voices whispered.