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)
Dozens of guards and hunters surround us from all sides. They are like black wolves with their dark garments accented by glints of silver. These men and women are armed with several weapons each. Some are tall and in heavy armor, others only a little bigger than me and dressed in leather from head to toe. A medic travels in a small carriage at the very back, with their own escort.
In my mind, none of this is necessary. Once we arrive at the ruined castle, I will go to the dungeon, where I left Hawk. He will be still conscious thanks to the pool of cool water staving off the heat, and I will lock the Umlaris Band around his neck, making him go back to normal. I don’t love that doing so will tie us to the Nocturne Court permanently, but it’s not a magical bond, only a promise, and, as we have already established, my sense of honor has one allegiance—Hawk. If necessary, I’ll use the collar and attempt an escape.
“What I’m wondering,” Tristan starts what is surely another one of his quips, “is how you got a man with a shadow like that to bond with you in the first place?”
Here we go.
Kyran doesn’t add to the question, but he glances our way, eager for gossip as any other man.
“You might be shocked to find out that not all men crave your muscles,” I say in a level tone, to not show how much the question really bothers me. I’ve made enough of a spectacle of myself on Kyran’s bedroom floor.
Tristan whistles. “Look at you trading like a—”
“That’s enough,” Kyran cuts into what was surely another insult coming my way.
Tristan rolls his eyes but doesn’t shut up despite dropping the earlier topic. “Did you bed him in his Sunwolf form? Would that even be considered ‘bedding’? I hear the Sunwolf is as big as a house and therefore wouldn’t fit in a bed.”
My cheeks go up in flames at the idea that my cousin is imagining my Companion mounting me like I’m a bitch in heat, and I can’t hide my shock. “How dare you! What kind of question is that?”
Tristan shrugs. “What? I’ve heard of elves seeking all sorts of pleasures.”
Kyran growls. “Tristan, do not bring up the kelpie incident. It does not matter that they’re sentient. That man is long gone from court.”
As they bicker, with Tristan pulling Kyran’s leg and the Lord remaining dead serious, my thoughts return to my lover, on his own in a tomb of cold stone.
It is when I spot the faintest hint of the spire at the top of the tallest tower of the werewolf castle that the steady rhythm I’ve been sensing from afar quickens so rapidly, my own heart skips a beat to match it.
“What is it?” Kyran asks.
“The castle. We’re almost there,” I point out the ruined building. “But his heartbeat has sped up. Could it be due to my proximity?”
While usually I would keep all secrets to myself to hold more cards, I need to share everything for Hawk’s sake. If there is anything Kyran knows about the bond that I don’t, he might use that information for all our benefit.
Tristan chuckles. “Prince Sylvan Goldweed, makes men’s hearts race even from afar.”
I want to respond with a biting retort, but when the echo of my husband’s heartbeat makes my chest ache and my head spin, I press on my breastplate, fighting for air. Petty rivalries don’t matter in the face of my husband’s suffering. I flinch when Kyran gets close enough to touch my back.
“Sylvan?” he asks, brows knotting above his regal nose. Ah, how I hate that he really is the right man for the job.
“May we add haste?” I ask, and Kyran gestures at the guards without a word.
The kelpies are taller than regular horses, but I still need to stand in the saddle to see the ruins better as we stampede down the track.
“I haven’t been here in ages,” Tristan says as we emerge from the forest and approach the crooked gate. Despite his carefree attitude, he makes sure his sword is ready. I shoot him a sharp glance as the soldiers spread out in a fan-like pattern in front of the steps leading inside the building. We dismount, and the moment my feet hit the ground, the unrest in my heart becomes yet more urgent. I cannot sense Hawk’s closeness despite being right by the castle. Can it be that the thick walls are somehow muting our connection?
“We will not fight him!”
“That depends on you though, doesn’t it?” Kyran asks and unpins the Umlaris Band from his saddle before tossing it to me. “Put it on him. We shall wait.”
I try to catch it, but I’m not the most agile of elves, and in a moment that will haunt me for the rest of my life, the collar slips from my grasp. Someone sniggers, and then, just as the Umlaris Band is about to drop into the mud, Tristan catches it with a long vine of his shadow. He lifts it and dangles it in front of me until I grab it in frustration.