Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
But Baslik was shaking his head.
“I have made arrangements for safety on this trip, never fear, my dear wife. In this case it is worth the risk—not only do I have business to conduct with the Fenushians, but they also have special unguents and elixirs said to bring on a female’s heat.” He pointed a finger in my face menacingly. “One way or another, I will make you glow—you will bear me a son that resembles me and my father in every detail and you will do it before my brother’s wife delivers another brat. Depend on it!”
Then he stomped out of the room, leaving me alone with the physician, who spoke not at all, but simply kept his eyes down as he tended to my wrist. I was left to wonder what my husband had been talking about when he had said he would make me glow one way or another.
Isla lay down her pen. It had been two weeks now since her husband had made that threat. Most of her bruises had faded—even the finger-shaped ones around her wrist were a ghostly yellow. In all that time, Baslik had not come to her at night—had not attempted to bring on her glow. It had been a blessed respite, but she knew the matter was not laid to rest yet. The only question was, what came next?
Isla dreaded to find out.
FOUR
From the recorded logs of Sark, Hybrid Kindred Warrior and Security Specialist for Hire
“What’s the job?” I asked, settling into the chair that had been provided. It was too small, of course, and it creaked alarmingly. I tensed myself to jump up if I needed to. But it must have been made of good materials—it settled and held my bulk.
This is a problem I encounter often—I’m bigger than most humanoids—though not as big as my father’s people, if my mother is to be believed. She was a rare female Drake Kindred but she fell in love with what her people called a “Giant Kindred.” They are a branch of the Kindred family tree that mated with a super tall race of humanoids, which means they grow to be nine feet or three meters in height.
I never attained my father’s height, being only around eight feet tall myself, but I was tall enough and muscular enough to make most other humanoids uneasy. Not tall enough, however, to match with my father’s people—even if I could find them, which I never had. All I had from him—for he died soon after I was born—was his skin color, a pearly gray like marble come to life, as my mother affectionately said.
As for my mother’s people, I might have fit in with them, despite my odd skin tones, if I hadn’t lacked what every other male of her race had—a Drake inside. I’ve heard there are other Drake Kindred—Monstrum Kindred, they are called—who are actually in their Drake form all the time. They have horns and scales and they can even breathe fire while still in humanoid form.
Not so with regular Drake Kindred—we are what you might call “Shifters,” meaning we actually have a second entity living inside us—a fire breathing Drake that we carry around like our second selves. Or in the case of my mother’s clan, an ice-breathing Drake.
But whether it breathes fire or ice, a Drake is a monster that can break free to take over if the warrior it is tied to isn’t extremely careful to keep it in check. So we’re very careful to keep it under control at all times.
I don’t know why I keep saying “we” because I sure as hell don’t have a Drake of my own. That was proved at my manhood ceremony on my eighteenth name day when I tried to summon the creature that should be half of my soul—and nothing came out.
After that, I was pretty much an outcast from my mother’s people—not that I’d been especially welcomed before. I was like a bad joke—a hybrid that has none of the abilities of either side of his heritage but all the disadvantages of both.
I made up for it with training.
After leaving home, I joined up with the Death Squad—an elite mercenary group that prizes profit over everything else. The DS has a pretty fucking fearsome reputation—one that still follows me, even though I had left them years before.
Which was probably why the weaselly little bastard sitting behind the priceless blackwood desk across from me wanted to hire me.
“What’s the job?” I repeated, frowning at him, since he hadn’t answered me the first time. I’m usually a patient male—you have to be in my line of business—but I don’t like to be kept waiting on purpose.
Also, Lord Baslik Le’rank was hardly the only offer I had on the table. I had just saved the life of Emperor T’raskow of Yanem Two, foiling an assassination attempt that had unfolded during his Majesty’s coronation. The Emperor was a big deal and word had spread fast—I could have my pick of assignments now.