Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
His mind flashed to the horrific toll for such a journey . . . what lay on their temple’s sacrificial altar.
He now knew why Ariza had betrayed him.
“You disregard my wishes so easily.” Kereny’s expression told him she was making a mental tally of each time. “How much longer must we be in this place?”
Depends on the newlings. He had trouble scenting them from behind the falls, but he heard their distant howls. They remained between him and the gateway. “We’ll leave as soon as the demons clear out. Try to relax.”
She rolled her eyes at that and returned her attention to the fire.
As he watched the light flicker over her fine-boned face, he pondered his current predicament. Did he dare spend even an extra second in the past?
He was confident that Ormlo couldn’t instigate a trap back in Quondam because the warlock had made an unbreakable vow to serve Munro’s interests above his own. Even so, the pressure to return remained. An earlier form of Munro was alive in this era, and no time-traveler could exist in the same age as the exact same being. The universe had a way of fixing the problem—by erasing the time-traveler.
The warlocks’ gateway had provided magic to protect Munro, but its effect was short-lived. Hadn’t Ormlo warned that he needed to get in and out as swiftly as possible?
After such a long and tumultuous life, Munro could soon fade to nothing. Feeling as if he had another sword raised over his neck, he held up his hands to check for wavering. Would the erasure take place over hours, giving him a chance at survival?
Or seconds?
He gazed at Kereny, her luminous copper eyes burnished in the firelight. He didn’t fear death, but the thought of being unable to save her life maddened him.
Especially since he’d already failed to save her before.
NINE
The wolf had started pacing, looking deep in thought. Were his musings as tangled as Ren’s?
He’d told her to relax, but she hadn’t relaxed in memory. Not really since her parents had been late to return to the circus all those years ago.
What would they think about her current predicament? No doubt they’d be puzzled why she’d twice hesitated to kill the Lykae.
I’m still puzzled as well.
Ren studied him as he crossed the cave from wall to wall. The fire cast his shadow on the curtain of water like a projection from a magic lantern show. No longer was he a filthy giant. The falls had scoured away the last traces of blood, leaving . . . perfection.
His beast was dormant at last, his claws and fangs receded, and his wounds were healing. His thick hair had dried, the shade more brown than black, and the blue of his eyes had returned to his normal color, which for him was blazing gold.
He’d called her beautiful at her wedding. During all of his leering, he must have envisioned intercourse with her. Would a Lykae want her on all fours? She pictured him naked, surging behind her, his skin slapping hers into submission, and her breath caught.
Just that one imagining brought her more pleasure than all the kisses she and Jacob had stolen at the heart-shaped boulder. The two of them had never experienced uncontrollable passion together, but she’d witnessed it in others whenever she’d interrupted villager liaisons behind the tents.
Oh yes, she’d gotten an eyeful—and she’d coveted their abandon.
Sweat. Tongues. Frantic hands and hips. Descending another’s body with one aim. Taking turns to see who could do the most shameless thing.
Her mind easily supplied a vision of this Lykae with frantic hips and hands, sweating and shameless for her, and her body grew taut as a tightrope.
But how would sex with him even work? He would crush a mortal with his unnatural strength. Her traitorous mind whispered, He’s been gentle so far.
Focus, Ren! She glanced at her knife tucked into his belt. She would have to get close to reclaim it. Maybe if she stopped sparring with him, he would lower his guard. “Do you not want to sit? Your pacing is making me dizzy, wolf.”
“I’m eager to get you safely to my home.”
Her eyes narrowed as a thought occurred. “And then what? If you managed to force me all the way to Louisiana, how would you prevent me from escaping you? Would you lock me in a room?” So much for not sparring. But his arrogance goaded her temper.
“I believe you’ll enjoy a future with me. I’ve ways to ensure you do.” He rested a shoulder against the cave wall. As he leaned in, muscles rippled down his torso.
Ire forgotten, she found her gaze dawdling lower to the line of crisp black hair descending from his navel to . . .
The considerable bulge in his pants stirred.
Arousal shocked its way through her system. If merely looking at the wolf made her react like this, what would touching his godlike body do to her?