Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
The way past the magical wards starts at a beautifully fashioned ventilation grate. The passage was created after one of the Dark Companions in the past wished for artificial fog in their bathroom. Their flight of fancy that is now my way in. I crawl down a shaft occupied by dust and pretty spiders. A whole family of them crawls over me as I twist my body in order to move past a bend, but I am in no mood to play with the babies. I fear getting stuck here and rotting within the walls of the castle while my beloved howls for me, but the desire to free him from the curse overcomes fear, and soon I open the other end of the narrow passage with utmost care.
Sweat beads above my lip as I reach out of the tunnel and grab the wall on either side, pulling myself out. One look around tells me I’m in Lord Kyran’s bathing salon. The tiles on the wall make up the Nightweed Family Crest above a tub big enough to contain the Sunwolf. Its size does not surprise me in the slightest, since I’ve heard long baths are Luke’s beloved’s pastime. Oh, how I wish I could also give my Dark Companion all he could ever wish for.
I hold up the small vial of Cerulean Puffball spores, ready to open it and put my victims to sleep. No one is speaking on the other side of the bathroom door, and no moans of pleasure reach my ears either, so with my heart in my throat, I push the door open, hoping it doesn’t creak.
The vast bedroom is illuminated by stars, but I see well in the dark, and the two shapes resting in the huge four-poster bed remain still, curled together under the thick comforter.
All I need to do is get close enough to sprinkle the spores in their faces. This will offer me enough time to tie them up.
The floor gives the faintest creak under my weight, and I still with my heart in my throat, but nothing happens. The waft of musky perfume reaches my nose as I continue my careful journey through the bedchamber. I can see the couple more clearly now, and my chest tightens at the way Kyran cradles his Dark Companion, as if he wants to stand between him and all the danger in the world. Hawk holds me this way too, even during the long trek through the marshland, when we barely spoke, rattled by what I’ve done with his shadow at The Burning Corpse, he was there to support me. I shall free him from the Sunwolf’s clutches, even if it’s the last thing I ever do!
My lungs are tight as I lean close, listening to two breaths, two heartbeats, and I’m about to make my move when something shuffles in the corner of the room. And then—
Loud shrieks cut through the silence, followed by metallic clacks that sound as if a rat were trying to free itself from a cage, and I drop the precious spores, because the larger of the two men on the bed is already rising.
I cannot see his eyes, but his gaze feels heavy nevertheless. Before I can think or act, or… do anything, a shadow tentacle rushes up my body, locking around my neck. My stomach protests when it tugs, but by the time my knees hit the floor, a lamp comes on, illuminating Lord Kyran, who stands over me like the personification of the Darkmoon, about to pass judgment.
Fuck.
Chapter 38
Sylvan
Itry to speak, excuse my presence in the royal bedchamber, but as soon as I open my mouth a tentacle made of shadow smacks my face. It then stuffs itself into my mouth, gagging me.
“How dare you?” comes out of Lord Kyran’s mouth in a low growl.
No matter how much I resent him, I have to admit that he is an impressive elf. Tall, wide in the shoulders, muscular, and since he’s wearing nothing but a pair of dark green silken pants, two shadow eels are visible on his pale chest, like moving tattoos. His long dark gray hair is like the waves of Grief Ocean during a storm, and I half-expect his mane to rise in the charged air.
“I’ve shown you mercy! Banishment instead of execution, and you invade my home with poison?” He points to the vial on the floor. “You are no better than a rat.”
Behind him, Luke leaves the bed. “What’s going on?” he asks, frightened. He might be much shorter than Kyran, but is still bigger than me, which fills me with frustration as I writhe in binds stronger than steel. Pale, with messy brown hair dyed green at the bottom, he is so plain he had to put a ring in his nose to feel special. And yet, unlike me, he is celebrated at court.