Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“Whoa,” I said, stopping the horse and dropping my focus to her beautiful face. Some color had returned to her cheeks along with a sheen of sweat, both good signs pointing to an eventual recovery.
I’d thought about releasing her animal to help her heal, but surprisingly, my wolf told me to hold off. If she planned to stay in this kingdom—something I dared not think about lest panic grip me—she shouldn’t have her animal’s power on full display. She should still hide it until she could get settled and find a pack to protect her before yanking it out. Either way, she’d have suitors a mile long. She was too pretty, too charming, too balanced and charismatic, not to mention smart and talented and funny . . . She’d have no trouble finding a mate Outside, as she called it.
Imagining her with another man was something else I couldn’t allow myself to think about. It wasn’t panic that reared its ugly head at those thoughts, but blind rage. I wouldn’t ever be able to see anyone else touch her, not without killing that person. She was mine, and mine alone.
Too bad she didn’t agree.
Her eyelids fluttered again just before a crease formed between her brows. She groaned, her head turning to burrow into my shoulder. Her other hand reached up weakly to clutch my shirt. She wiggled a little closer.
“Weston,” she whispered. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did.” My arms constricted around her. “I’ll always come for you, Little Wolf.”
Her relieved sigh made my heart soar before her hand relaxed and she fell back into unconsciousness.
Nightfall came early in the dense trees. We were forced to walk our horses single file, choosing a path barely large enough for our supply carts but too small for any larger wagons that might try to catch us. We planned to take a path that looped around, heading south for a while before returning east. It would eventually connect with a larger road not too far from the port where our ship waited to take us out of here. I’d already sent someone ahead with word that we were delayed but on our way.
Now we just had to get there.
Royal guards wouldn’t be a problem on a path like this; they didn’t travel light. Any sort of guard from the town where we’d rescued Aurelia or their allies also wouldn’t be a problem, not against my pack. They didn’t have enough power or people. It was Granny’s organization that worried me.
They now knew Aurelia’s last location, and it wouldn’t be hard to figure out we were heading east toward the ports. There were only a few options to travel—a large road, a few smaller ones, and this path. I’d need to plan for them sending out scouts. It’s what I would do. I’d also station my people on that large road by the port and wait there until our eventual arrival. I’d do it using all my connections with the king and queen, too.
As I was about to stop and make ready to camp for the night, Aurelia’s eyes opened. Her brow furrowed in discomfort, her accompanying moan emphasizing just how awful she felt.
“I don’t feel great,” she said softly, closing her eyes again. “You might want to put me down. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“It’s okay, just let me know. I’ll dangle you off the horse the same way you do it.”
Her little smile was a welcomed sight. It disappeared quickly.
“You were right all along.” She opened those beautiful eyes again, her long black lashes catching a tear. Her voice trembled. “My product is doing exactly what you said and more. It’s full-scale addiction—people aren’t eating, they take too much at a time, and it makes you very sick, bad enough it could probably kill you.” I didn’t tell her how close she’d come. Her expression filled with pain. “My touch is stamped all over Granny’s setup. Even the design is mine. I drew the picture on a birthday card I gave to Granny a long time ago. Did you notice the fucked up butterfly?”
I thought for a moment before shaking my head a little. “I don’t recall.”
“Why does no one notice the butterfly? The original was a fairy. Same wings, she just swapped out the body. All the product is mine, every single one. She’s putting some sort of waxy overlay on it and cutting it or squishing it or something to make it look nicer, but it’s mine.”
“Is that why you took it, to see if it was yours?”
“No, I could tell when I broke it open or scraped off part of the waxy stuff. I took it—multiple kinds—to see what kind of effect it had. How it changed the original product, you know? I think the waxy stuff is the same on all the products, it’s just dyed a different color. They made it look like candy. Snack boxes—what a fucking joke. It’s some sort of . . . chemical, or something. It’s not natural, whatever it is. It’s not meant to be consumed. Honestly, I almost think it’s some kind of poison. The first one made me feel sick, but it went away as soon as the product started to affect me. The second one made me feel much sicker, which was odd because there wasn’t more of the waxy stuff on that particular product. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. The third one was like some sort of terrible explosion in my body. I felt hot and then cold, with horrible pains in my stomach—“ She shivered. “I’ve never felt that sick. I think what happens is an accumulation effect. The more you have, the sicker it makes you. You need to wait until it is completely out of the system before having more or the compound effect poisons you. I would bet that’s why people are dying—they’re taking too much.”