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)
“Mom.” The shopkeeper rushes to her side, no doubt still worried we’ll attack her mother. Urson hurries to do Narelle’s bidding, helping his sister off the floor as she reluctantly comes to from Mira’s last punch. They disappear into the back, and I almost feel bad for them until I remember that they attacked us.
“I’m ninety-three, Leona, I’m not dead.” She waves her daughter off. “Or what is it you Amaralis say? I have not yet met Malek. He’s your god of death, is he not?”
My brow furrows at the unknown term: Amaralis.
“Isn’t he everyone’s god of death?” Mira leans back against the nearest row of bookshelves.
I shake my head. “Deverelli don’t worship gods.”
“It’s why we’re considered the most neutral of the isles. Perfect for trade.” Narelle shrugs. “What you call gods, we call science. What you call fate, we call coincidence. What you call the divine intervention of love, we call…” She flourishes her hand. “Alchemy. Two substances combined to make something entirely new, not unlike what’s between the two of you.” She glances between Xaden and me and sets her hand on her chest.
My heart twists. If she only knew how close she was to my very thoughts earlier today.
She wiggles her finger at Xaden. “I heard you saying you’d kill my grandson if he took another step toward your beloved, young man. How illogically, toxically romantic of you. Have to admit, that kind of confident violence isn’t what I pictured when Asher talked about you, but the brown hair, those…I guess they’re brown eyes, and how utterly smitten he predicted you two would eventually be for each other? Well, he described you almost perfectly, Dain Aetos.”
Oh, fucking kill me now.
My mouth opens, then shuts.
Xaden raises both eyebrows and presses his lips between his teeth.
Dain rubs the back of his neck.
Mira snorts once, covers her mouth with her hand, then doubles over laughing. “I’m sorry,” she forces out and straightens, quickly masking her face and clearing her throat, but she slips again, her shoulders shaking. “I can’t. I just can’t. I need a second.” She walks behind the row of shelves, hopefully to compose herself.
My face feels like it’s been blasted by dragon fire.
“How would you like this to go?” Dain asks me as Narelle glances among the three of us, her silver brows knitting.
“Just like it’s gone for the last eighteen months,” Xaden answers, losing any and all trace of the niceties he showed Dain an hour ago. “Everyone assumes she’ll wind up with you, but it’s my last name she ends up wearing on her flight jacket in formation.”
“Seriously?” Words absolutely fail me that he would go there. It was one time. Fine, twice if I count the return trip from Samara after we got back together.
“Glad to see you’re feeling like yourself again.” Dain leans back against the counter. “But we don’t have last names on our flight jackets.”
“And yet you get the fucking point.” Xaden’s jaw ticks.
Narelle’s gaze narrows on Xaden through her thick lenses. “You aren’t Dain.”
Xaden shakes his head.
“I’m Dain.” Dain raises his hand briefly.
“And he is?” Narelle asks me.
“Xaden Riorson.” I lift my chin as if I’m answering to my father for my choice. “And he’s mine, even when he’s being a possessive ass.”
“Fen Riorson’s son.” Narelle drums her gnarled fingertips on the armrest. “Asher certainly didn’t predict that.”
“He would have if he’d ever met him.” I reach for Xaden’s hand and lace our fingers.
“Our mother knew,” Mira says, taking her place at the end of the bookshelf. “She wasn’t enthusiastic about it or anything, but she knew love when she saw it. But she certainly never told us about our father coming here.”
“She wouldn’t have, would she?” Narelle shifts in her seat. “When did he die?”
“A little less than three years ago,” I answer gently. “His heart failed.”
Narelle’s face crumples for a few sorrowful breaths, but she nods through it as if having a conversation with herself, then lifts her head again. “Your father risked all your lives to hide away his life’s work with the sole purpose that you find it, Violet. He left the last of it with me almost four years ago with explicit instructions that you only be given it if you had attained the intelligence and understanding you would need to comprehend it.”
I stiffen.
“That’s…” Dain shakes his head.
“That’s Dad,” Mira says slowly.
“You’ve got this.” Xaden squeezes my hand.
I fight to swallow the sudden lump in my dry throat. “He told me to bring you the rarest item I possess.” An ironic laugh bubbles up. “And I thought…” I shake my head, realizing the work we’ve gone through to haul the satchel all this way has been for nothing.
“You thought it’s Deverelli, so naturally, we trade in goods, treasures.” Narelle folds her hands in her lap.
“He meant my mind.” I glance at Mira, but her gaze is locked on the floor. “That’s why he said not to send another in my stead.”