Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I roll mine. “I’m not a figment of your imagination.”
“I don’t know, dream girl,” he smiles softly. “I can’t imagine how you could possibly be real.”
His words and too-handsome face make something swoop in my belly. If anything, he’s the dream. I want to whisper it. I want to be a dumb, impulsive girl. This feels like something out of those novels Sabra’s always trying to get me to read.
But I know better. I know better than to believe in a dream. Dreams don’t come true for girls like me. Or maybe they do, but they’re double-edged and slice like a knife.
Layden suddenly stands up and comes toward me. “Who are you, Phoenix?”
I hold up a hand to stop him, and he does stop, but only when my outstretched hand is pushing against his chest.
“Where do you come from? Who are your people? Why were you alone in the forest the day we met?”
My mouth stays stubbornly shut. Finally, feeling his eyes bore into me, I answer. “You’ll never see me again, so none of that matters.”
I start to pull away, but he reaches down to grasp my hand.
“It does too matter. You might not have been sitting alone in the woods for two hundred years, but I can tell we are alike. You are alone like me.”
His words pierce me.
“It doesn’t matter,” I insist.
“It does! Because you aren’t alone now. You are here, with me. You were running away from something, just like I was. What’s the point of bringing me back to life and making me hope if you’re just going to disappear into the fog again?”
My eyes flash up at him angrily, heat and emotions I don’t understand searing through my chest. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“No. Of course you don’t.” He steps into me, and the hand not holding mine lifts to my face to caress down my cheek. “But what if we both stayed right here? Even if for just two months? What if we ran away from the rest of the world together?”
His face inches closer to mine and I blink, rational thought blanking at the nearness of him and his lips and his overwhelming scent. I can hear both our hearts beating like a drum line in my head, and mine is the one that’s going faster. His is a cool, low-base beat, sure and strong, while I’m the captured, terrified rabbit. Does that mean I’m the prey? Do I care?
Because for only the second time in my seemingly endless existence, everything else drops away and it all seems so clear. I am pure, impulsive want.
I want to kiss this man. I want to devour him and be devoured. Our lips inch closer, and the tension between us snaps taut like a rubber band, each of us savoring the moment before connection. Offering a chance for the other to pull away. Neither of us does.
I suck in a breath, giddy for my first kiss but with a terrible, awesome feeling that this is about to change everything. A kiss from a fallen angel.
But just as our lips make the barest contact and Layden’s chest begins to glow with a blinding light—
A loud banging knock comes from the door.
We leap apart, eyes wide, as both our heads swing toward it.
Layden tries to beat me to answer the door, which is cute. Obviously, I’m the one who should face any possible threats.
I shove him aside and open the door before he can make a counter move, ready to use my compulsion on whoever’s on the other side.
But my eyes go wide. “Sabra!” I grab her arm and yank her through the door, slamming it shut behind her. “What are you doing here?” I ask, staring at her in shock. She shouldn’t be here. She looks just like she did when I last saw her. Frizzy brown hair held back by a long braid down her back. Glasses too large for her face. Baggy clothes that are always just a little too big for her frame, even though she could afford better. Then again, the money would have come from Vlad, and I knew she hated accepting anything from him, even if she was working for it.
“Warmest greetings to you, too, bestie,” she says, pushing her glasses up her nose. It’s such a familiar gesture it breaks my heart.
I wave a hand and pull her into a hug. “You know I love you, but what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on the other side of the world by now.”
We had an agreement when we both ran away from my grandfather a week ago. Run and don’t stop running. It was an imperfect plan. I had to stay within five hundred kilometers of Grandfather in order not to keel over because of my blood connection with him, so I planned to run in a concentric circle—something I knew would only work for so long before he found me. But Sabra should have been long gone by now. Safe. Away from me and the nightmare that is my family.