Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
“What’s with the costume change?”
“Today’s important,” he said as he stood from the throne. Despite her carefree summer vibes, he was still in a navy suit with a white button-up and leather loafers. The crown was gone from his brow, but somehow he looked even more formidable, as if the magic swirling under his skin was threatening to unleash.
“Maybe for you,” she said. “But if I’m not a hostage, then I’m going to go.”
Lorcan slipped his hands into his pockets. “Back to him.”
It wasn’t a question. They both knew the first place she’d go.
“Yes.”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Have you wondered why that is?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why him? After what he kept from you at the last solstice, the way he used you, the pain he caused you,” Lorcan said, taking a step down from the dais.
“As if you haven’t done the same.”
“I came when you called,” he reminded her. “I kept you safe. Explain how that’s remotely similar to what he has done.”
“I’m not arguing with you about Graves.”
“Good,” Lorcan said with a deadly smile. “Because you were the one who bridged our connection without a binding ceremony. You reached deep enough into our bond to access me. You begged me to come.”
She flushed at the memory of doing just that. “I was being held hostage with iron. I would have done anything to escape that fate.”
“Still, I came at your command. I brought a healer with me. I saved your life.”
“I saved my own life,” she snapped back at him. “I managed to escape the Curator’s clutches. Who, mind you, is actually Cillian Ryan, who masqueraded for years as my thieving master, Jason. So forgive me if I don’t care about your self-righteous bullshit right now, Lorcan.”
“Cillian Ryan is alive?” he asked coldly.
“Yeah. Remember how you said someone killed him during the Monster War? That was me.” Lorcan’s eyes widened. “I put a knife in his back, but it paralyzed him instead of killing him. He got away just before you showed up.”
“How did you get out of the iron?”
Kierse hesitated. She didn’t know if she wanted Lorcan to know how she had done it, but there was no way around it. “I slowed time enough that I could push my body out of time and out of the chair.”
His eyes widened. “You phased. That is incredibly advanced. Only Saoirse had that power, and it took her a hundred years to develop.”
Kierse stilled at those words. A century. Meanwhile Kierse had discovered it out of necessity. Was it because she had Saoirse’s magic, or was it because she’d had no other choice?
“This makes sense to me,” Lorcan said quietly, almost to himself. “But you haven’t answered my question. Why do you think it is that you keep going back to him?”
“I don’t want to do this with you. I don’t know why I’m here or why you changed my clothes or what you think you can possibly gain from this. But I made my choice. In the end, it’s still mine.”
“Is it?”
“What does that mean?”
He prowled forward. “I’ve had some…musings over the last couple weeks. Something felt off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Niamh said you were adamant that you didn’t want to work with Graves again. That you didn’t trust him. That there was nothing to worry about, and yet you were staying at his brownstone. You were with him. And every time I saw you, your feelings toward him changed.”
Kierse flushed. “There’s plenty of reasons for that—he changed.”
Lorcan laughed. Then his face fell. “Oh, you’re being serious.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “Fucking hell, how much damage has he done?”
“Damage?”
“Let me draw you a picture,” he said as he began a circuit around her. “You leave for months and refuse to talk to him. He shows up unannounced and convinces you to come back to New York with him. Niamh mentions that you’ve lost some memories. You mention to me that you’ve learned how to turn your absorption off. Gen mentions to Niamh that she’s worried about you and Graves after what happened last time.”
Kierse bristled at that. “Did she?”
“Yes. She said she’s worried he’s not telling you everything. Then Ethan comes to me and tells me that Graves is helping you remember your parents.” His hands clenched into fists. “He’s worried by what that means. That Graves could be in your head.”
“That is none of your business.”
Lorcan stopped at her back. His words were hollow as he asked, “Did he ever tell you how he killed my sister?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But he’d never do that to me.”
“Would you even know if he had?”
Kierse clenched her jaw and turned to look at him. “Graves has not done anything to our bond, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“How would you know?”
“He told me that he’d kill you first,” Kierse argued.