Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
A mixture of awe and trepidation swells inside me as I watch her massive body sail toward us, the sun glinting off her scales, highlighting the indigo and rose gold.
Our horses dance and tug on their reins as they sense the predator’s approach. It would be nothing for her to pluck them in her claws. I’ve seen her do it before.
Zander slides from his saddle and joins me on the ground. “How did you know she would come?”
“I didn’t. It was a hunch.” I sense a connection between her and me. Maybe it’s that I know her secret—her alterative life as a brothel owner, hiding in plain sight among commoners and kings alike—or maybe it’s that she has declared herself an ally.
My attention is on her, but Zander’s deep brown eyes never leave my face, his hand smoothing over my hip. “Will you ever cease to amaze me?”
I reach up to draw a fingertip along the angular line of his jaw. Even with his golden-brown hair and face streaked in beast blood, he is the most attractive male I’ve ever met. “I hope not. We have a lot of years ahead of us. Could get stale.”
He cups my jaw and places a soft kiss against my lips. “I welcome those years, stale or otherwise.”
“I don’t think it’s the best time for this,” I whisper against his lips.
“Perhaps not, but I certainly needed it.”
“So did I.” I close my eyes and revel in his closeness, wishing I could melt into his arms and remain there … forever.
The ground shudders beneath Caindra as she lands in the clearing.
With a heavy sigh, Zander peels away, brushing something off my shoulder.
“What was that?”
“A piece of something’s tooth.” He misses my grimace of horror as he turns toward the army. “Your plan worked.”
Bellows carry over the rush of hooves, more green flags waving high in the air. Soon, the lines slow to a canter, then to a trot, until a wall of soldiers on horses a dozen-deep forms fifty feet away.
“Of course it worked. Who would be stupid enough to pick a fight with our fiercest ally?” I edge closer to where Caindra stoops. It’s the first time I’ve been near her since before Hudem’s moon. “Thank you,” I whisper, reaching out to slide my hand over her snout. “You saved us.” Had those wyverns that emerged from the rift attacked, this morning would look very different.
We might not be standing here.
If she understands me, she gives no hints. Does Caindra even remember the form she once occupied as the Goat’s Knoll barkeep and master of secrets, now that the nymphs are here and she’s relegated to remain as a dragon? I guess I’ll never know. There’s no way to ask her.
I catch my reflection in her violet eyes—of Princess Romeria’s face that I’ve had to accept as my own in this world. My grimace returns in an instant as I take in my wild, windswept mane, standing on end and held in position by crusted blood. Smears of black coat my cheeks and forehead. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I look like this?” I only ever touched these beasts with my affinities.
“Like you survived a battle?” Zander’s voice is laced with humor. “I did not realize you would be so vain.”
“I look like I dove into a vat of ink!”
“And I can’t wait to help you wash it off,” he counters, his voice low and contrary to our current predicament.
Jarek strolls up alongside Abarrane, their horses abandoned with Gaellar, their swords drawn. “You’ve looked better.” He inhales. “Smelled better too.”
A puff of hot air from Caindra’s snout breezes over me.
“Oh, that’s funny, huh?” I scoff.
I get a second huff in return. At least she no longer seems two seconds from slicing Jarek’s body in half with her claws.
“What is the plan now?” Jarek’s narrowed eyes size up the soldiers.
Zander shares his intense gaze. “We wait to see who they send for parley—”
“There!” Abarrane aims her sword end toward the purple flag hoisted high in the distance.
Beside me, Zander’s shoulders sink with relief as Bellcross’s envoy cuts through the wall of horses. “This changes everything. Come. We will meet them halfway.”
“Make sure she behaves.” Jarek points an accusatory finger at Caindra, who snarls in response.
I catch his eye roll as he’s turning away. “Of course she’ll behave. Lord Rengard is our ally and we need this army.” I toss Caindra a knowing stare and then rejoin the others.
A company of twenty horses and riders move toward us with a noticeable gap between, forming two groups.
I pick out Lord Rengard first, his armor gleaming in the morning sunlight, the telltale purple plume marking him. Even the ominous situation doesn’t diminish the smile on his lips as he climbs out of his saddle. The soldiers wearing Bellcross’s crest on their shields scramble off to follow their lord while the ones wearing eastern green remain on their horses, their expressions guarded.