Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
To my shock, Garrick stares at one Quinn, then the other, and then his head pivots between the two quickly, repeatedly.
Cat.
“You’re going to have to be fast,” Rhi warns.
“No worries there.” The second the wind dies, I step around Ridoc’s ice, then throw Garrick’s own dagger close enough to scare him but not cause any real damage. Heat flushes my skin as power builds, demanding to be set free.
His hand whips upward and a wind gust knocks the blade off course, causing it to land about twenty feet to the right behind him.
Fine, that works, too.
He starts to redirect, bringing his hand toward the front of his body again, but mine is already skyward. The conduit siphons off just enough power to give me the control I need, and I release the rest, pulling the power downward in a precise flick of my wrist.
Lightning scorches the air, rending it with a flash of brilliance that strikes true, flaring bright as it spears from the sky, then disappearing as quickly as it came. The thunder swallows a few of the gasps and screams from the seats to my right, but I keep my eyes on Garrick and my hand held skyward.
His eyes widen at me. “You really did it.”
“I did.” The conduit hums in my left hand.
“Hate to tell you, Sorrengail, but not only did you leave yourself exposed, you also missed.” He grins.
“Did I?” I look pointedly to the smoking hilt of his melted blade behind him, and he follows my line of sight, visibly tensing when he spots the ruined dagger. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“By Malek, I fucking love you,” Xaden says.
“And if I’m exposed, fine. The rest of my squad is alive.” I shrug.
Xaden’s gaze cuts to mine.
Garrick turns back toward me, his mouth hanging slightly agape, and someone begins to slowly clap from the top of the steps.
I look up—along with just about everyone else—and my balance wobbles.
No. No. No.
Sandy-brown hair falls recklessly over his left eye as he starts down the steps, and I know it’s illogical, but I swear I can see just how green those eyes are from all the way down here.
“Help Aaric hide,” I tell Xaden. “Now.”
“Done.”
A royal herald puffs out his chest from the edge of the back row. “His Royal Highness, Prince Halden.”
Every cadet rises to their feet.
“Sit,” he says loud enough for his voice to carry over the amphitheater and motions downward with his hands. I know that look on his face all too well. He’s perfected an expression of relatable annoyance at the fanfare, when really, he lives for this shit. “Impressive,” he tells me, passing the first row and the rock wall that separates it from the arena and stepping onto cobblestone.
Breathe. Just breathe.
“Your Highness, you’d be safer in the seats—” Garrick starts.
“And yet, I think the view is much better from right here.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his professionally tailored dark-blue infantry uniform and smiles. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”
Garrick looks back, I’m guessing at Xaden, but I’m too busy keeping my gaze locked on Halden so I don’t draw any accidental attention to Aaric by checking. Garrick nods and looks to the line of riders. “Next.”
Our squad walks off the mat, and instead of filing in with the second-years, I take the empty place next to Halden, noting that one of the two guards stationed close behind him is Captain Anna Winshire.
She isn’t just the infantry liaison for the quest squad; she’s Halden’s. I’d been naive to assume he’d removed himself from the task force, and if Halden ever realizes that Xaden is the reason his twin isn’t breathing… Well, he won’t be as understanding as Aaric. This is bad.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, glancing over at him.
He doesn’t seem as tall as I remember—definitely a couple of inches shorter than Aaric—but he’s just as strikingly beautiful as the last time I saw him. His high cheekbones, the mouth tilted in a permanent smirk, and the perfect proportion to his features are enough to turn heads, but his eyes are the real showstopper. They’re as green as summer leaves. But man, do they wander.
“Learning, of course, like everyone else in this arena.” He flashes a smile, and the edges of his eyes actually crinkle. “Never figured you for rider black, but power looks good on you.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head and face the match.
Garrick blasts the remnants of Ridoc’s wall away with a gust of wind, and Caroline Ashton takes the mat, bringing the fire wielder with her.
Xaden’s gaze narrows as it jumps between Halden and me, and then he turns his attention to the sparring match.
“I don’t mean in the arena.” I hook the conduit to the strap at my hip. “What are you doing at Basgiath? It’s not exactly alumni weekend.” Please don’t say going northward with us.