Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Whatever Dravic had asked of her in that room—whatever advantage there might have been in concealing that she could hear—he knew there was no possible way she could pretend she hadn’t heard that.
Adira continued to stare at her… father.
The word felt strange even in her thoughts. She had a father. Not some nameless man who had abandoned her and her mother. Not someone who had gone on with his life without ever wondering what became of the daughter he’d left behind.
Tharne, the Warlord of Drogath, was her father, and he had been searching for her.
She didn’t know what to feel. For most of her life, no one had wanted her. She had been the lass who could neither hear nor speak, easily ignored when she wasn’t being ridiculed. People had spoken around her, dismissed her, treated her as though the inability to hear their words meant she had no thoughts of her own.
She had learned early not to expect kindness and never to expect love.
Then Feena had taken her in. Adira had never understood why. She had simply believed herself fortunate that someone had finally shown her kindness without demanding anything in return.
And then there was Dravic.
She looked at him. His attention remained fixed on Tharne, his body positioned slightly in front of hers as though even the revelation that the man was her father changed nothing.
He would protect her—always.
The king had frightened her when she first arrived at Caerith. He had been demanding, impatient, and impossible to understand at times. He had kept her near because her silence suited him, and she had wondered more than once why fate had placed her in the path of such a man.
Now she knew.
Dravic had taught her what it was to be wanted. Not tolerated but wanted.
He noticed her. He watched her. He learned her expressions and gestures when no one else had bothered. He touched her as though he couldn’t get enough of her and held her through the night as though there was nowhere else he wished to be.
And he had fallen in love with her. A woman who could not hear or speak. Her afflictions did not matter to him. He loved her as she was and she was happy to have heard the words spoken from his own lips.
Adira tightened her hand around his.
Dravic glanced down at her and the hard set of his features eased immediately.
She loved him with an intensity that frightened her, and she knew then and there she could not bear to lose such a powerful love.
A sudden turn of his head had her doing the same.
Someone was stepping out from behind the warriors along the wall.
Adira recognized him immediately… Ernach.
What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he imprisoned with the king’s men and the Hunters? Adira listened as Ernach spoke.
“This changes nothing,” he said as if he was in command.
Dravic watched the man’s every move. He did not walk amongst the warriors as a foe, not one of them lifting a hand to stop him. Nay, he walked as if he was one of them.
Adira watched Dravic’s eyes narrow and felt his body tense. He surmised what she did. He had trusted the wrong man.
Ernach stopped several paces away, his focus on Tharne. “Whether Dravic gives you your daughter or not, we still go to war with Scotara.”
Silence descended over the Great Hall.
Dravic waited to hear what Tharne would say, but the warlord said nothing, his silence speaking clearer than any explanation.
“You betray the kingdom once again,” Dravic accused, his anger palpable.
Ernach glared at Dravic. “Betray?” He puffed out his chest. “I am the rightful heir to Scotara. The crown belongs to me. My bloodline ruled Scotara before Halric’s family stole the crown.”
Shocked by his claim, it did not stop Dravic from correcting him. “You mean won it in battle from a brutal king whose own people wanted him gone.”
“My ancestors ruled with strength. Their titles stripped away and the survivors given a small patch of land to live on. Those who remained learned the value of patience.” Ernach’s mouth curved faintly. “Something my family became exceedingly good at.”
“I can see my ancestors made an error in allowing even one of you to live,” Dravic said, his voice cold as ice.
“Aye. I would have made sure to kill everyone in your family, including those who could possibly have been carrying an heir.” He gazed quickly to Adira.
Dravic had been too concerned with problems at hand to have given any thought to Adira carrying his child. But hearing Ernach’s threat, the thought became much too real. It stirred a rage so vicious in him that all he wanted to do was reach out and snap Ernach’s neck.
Ernach continued to fuel the flames. “I spent years subjecting myself to your grandfather, listening to him, advising him, and allowing him to believe there was no man more loyal to him than I.” A smug smile appeared on his face. “I learned his weaknesses. Your grandfather feared losing his kingdom more than he loved anyone in it.”