Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“And he is fierce too,” Cassius whispered in a way I felt a thrill across the skin of my neck.
“The Warrior,” I grunted, and before he could ask, I explained, “Strength. Preparation.”
“Hmm,” he murmured and tossed down another card.
The hilt and blade of a magnificent bejeweled sword out of which gold, yellow and orange rays shown.
“The Sword,” I said. “It means strife.”
“Well, that is no surprise,” he replied and threw another card.
Goodness.
“Cassius,” I said softly.
“What is that, Elena?” he asked.
It was a high card.
A full moon over a dark night on a shadowed landscape through which a river of red meandered through.
Blood.
“It is a high card,” I told him. “Blood. Fertility.” I swallowed and finished, “Family.”
“Ah,” he murmured, and if I would allow myself to admit it (which I did not), it was kind that he did not linger on that before he threw another card.
I closed my eyes.
His voice was silk in my ear. “And what is that, my princess?”
I opened my eyes.
On the card was a man floating in the air. He wore white gauntlets from wrists up to his shoulders and they sprung out from there, like wings. Armor at his thighs and over his groin. The rest of him, outside his white, armored boots, was bare. An elaborate bow and arrow were tattooed over his heart. And an he held an extravagant white bow in one hand, arrow in the other.
And under him, on the earth, was a woman upright but on her knees, which were spread wide. She was nude. She was fair. And a strapping man with black hair was on his knees behind her, his head bent to her neck, his arms about her, one hand cupping her sex, one hand cradling a bare breast.
His face was hidden in her neck.
But her face bore an expression of ecstasy.
“Eros,” I whispered.
“A god of the ancients,” Cassius whispered back. “I don’t need a reading, Elena. That speaks for itself.”
“Are you finished?” I queried.
He was not for he threw another card.
I could not stop my intake of breath.
“Pure beauty,” he murmured.
It was.
The Unicorn.
“And she means?” Cassius inquired.
“Joy,” I said softly. “Serenity. Fulfillment. Change.”
He said nothing to that, but he didn’t need to. I felt emotion coming from him, I just could not say what it was.
“Can we be done now?” I asked.
Apparently, we couldn’t for although he set the deck aside, he reached forward, took hold of the ones that had fallen, flipping them so mine was facing up.
A card drawn of purples and blacks, whites and charged blues. A landscape of devastation and destruction behind a woman in a long, wide, black skirt with an ornate purple apron at the front, all of which flowed in a threatening way and was decorated with blue lightning. She had black gauntlets on her forearms with gloves over her hands, her elbows pulled back, her fingers formed into claws.
Her bright white hair flowing up and out, she was leaned forward, her eyes spiteful, her mouth opened wide, her expression dreadful in its fury.
The Banshee.
“Bloody hell, what is that?” Cassius asked.
“An omen. The Banshee. Death of someone you care about. The shifting of the whole of your life as you know it,” I said quietly. I turned to him again. “Can we stop now?”
He turned his gaze to me.
“I sent Nero away.”
I blinked.
“It is but a temporary fix to a troubling problem,” he continued. “But you and I need time. Theodora needs time with us. There is much happening. Much change.” His sky-blue gaze moved to the card before coming again to me. “If she comes to know me, my men, trust will form. They’re good men, Elena. Fathers all to my own daughter. They show Aelia great affection and love. They will do the same for your Theodora.”
“This is a tidy plan, Cassius. But first, that trust will evaporate if it becomes known to her who Nero is, and it wasn’t shared with her before she came to care about your men, and possibly him. But I have thought on this and I would not like her to know at all. However, my fear is, Serena will take that option away from me.”
“I’ll handle Serena.”
I stared into his eyes before asking, “And how will you do that?”
“Leave it to me,” he stated.
I did not want him there at all, definitely not that close, most definitely not reading his cards (which were telling and embarrassing) and most definitely not conversing.
However, when he made a move to shift away, I caught onto the leather of his shirt, gripping it in a fist.
“How will you do that?” I demanded.
“Your sister is being handled.”
Presently?
My eyes narrowed.
“How?”
“It might be best you not know.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I told him.
He looked amused (and I wished he didn’t for he wore it well). “You cannot be the judge if you know and then wished you didn’t.”