Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
When she does things like that … it reminds me that I love her still, Aoife’s curse or not.
And that is a problem.
All is quiet at the crest. “You can come out now. It is done.”
No one responds.
I dismount and move for the boulders, only to find the space empty. “Romeria?” She wouldn’t have run at her first chance, not without the caster to guide her. Not unless she’s foolish enough to think she can figure it out on her own.
Or desperate enough to get away from me.
A sinking feeling hits the pit of my stomach.
I’ve been too cold toward her.
I’ve hurt her too much.
I should have explained everything Gesine said so maybe she’d understand what weighs on my thoughts.
Maybe she’d—
My nose catches the trace of blood in the air. Blood that isn’t smeared over my blade or soaked into my clothes.
I inhale deeply.
Her blood. Even masked by whatever fungi Gesine gave her, I recognize it.
Would this scrawny kid—Pan—have had the opportunity to overpower her? I can’t see it. But someone did.
Zorya mentioned three marauders trailing them. Were they part of the attack or a different group of bandits who hung back? The mortal would be a prize for them, and Romeria a burden to dispatch. That they didn’t kill her here, though …
A fresh wave of fear engulfs me. If anyone discovers who she is, they’ll drag her back to Cirilea, and I can only imagine what Atticus and Boaz have in store for her.
I scan the hills around us but see no movement in any direction. Whoever they were, they moved quickly. I look to the forests on either side. They could be anywhere in there.
They could be doing countless things to her.
Dread seizes my insides.
“Romeria!” My roar carries into the night.
19
Romeria
I regain consciousness lying next to a campfire, its blaze warming my back, its crackle snapping in my ears. My thoughts are dizzy, my head aching as if split open.
But the most concerning issue is the electric energy buzzing inside me.
Someone has taken my ring.
“Let her go, and you can have me.” The tremble in Pan’s voice betrays his brave words.
“We already have you.” Male laughter follows, a low and throaty and wicked sound. “Who is she, anyway?”
“Nobody. Just my keeper.”
“Why is she riding with those warriors?” someone else asks.
“Just coincidence. They were leaving Bellcross same time as us.”
“And they offered you both a ride? Is that it?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“What’s your keeper’s name?” a third male asks, his words tinged with a strange and harsh accent.
“Diana.” Pan doesn’t miss a beat. “We were on our way home to our village and got caught up at the market later than expected. She runs a bakery and needs to be back before the morning to open up.” He’s quick on his feet with the lies—and convincing, I’ll give him that. Also, he could have outed me as a noblewoman to gain favor with these bandits, but he hasn’t … yet.
“A keeper who runs a bakery but wears a ring like this.”
I wish I could see these immortals who are speaking, but I don’t dare move until I can get more information.
Pan falters. “I don’t know where she got that.”
I struggle to calm my breathing and center myself, but it’s impossible under these conditions.
“Please, just let her go. I’m the mortal. She’s no good to you.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Heavy footfalls sound, and suddenly I’m flipped over. My head spins. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
It takes me a moment to focus on the dark, hateful eyes watching me with intense interest. The male surely lives on the fringes of society, his clothing tattered and marked with old blood and dirt, several days’ worth of stubble covering his jaw. “You see this face?” A grimy, strong hand grips my cheeks, squeezing. “I’ll bet the rest of her is pretty nice too.” His gaze drops down, sizing up my body.
I grimace.
“Oh, that doesn’t appeal to you?” He releases me.
I work the ache from my jaw. “Not particularly.”
He grins, exposing yellowed teeth. “Too bad, but don’t worry, I’ll enjoy it enough for the both of us.”
“I doubt that.” We’re in a stony enclave, surrounded by an overhang on three sides, with dense trees at the opening. It’s secluded. The fire won’t be visible if anyone’s looking for us.
A lanky, long-haired male sits next to Pan, keeping him in place with a dagger. The third male is perched on a rotten log opposite the fire, watching. He’s small and wiry, a sword strapped to his side. When our eyes meet, my gut tells me he’s the most dangerous one.
On instinct, I fumble for the sheath at my hip.
“Lookin’ for this?” The one who threatened me holds up my dagger, the brilliant silver blade gleaming in the firelight.
I stifle my curse. Of course, they would take my dagger along with my ring.