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)
“Crazy how even with all the modern technology, someone snuck into the MET and just snatched that thing. So many pricey paintings in there, and only this antique gets stolen? Bet some rich fuck made a special order. Like it’s not enough that the elites harvest blood for their face masks,” the shopkeeper says, resting her chin on the heel of her hand.
I follow her gaze to the television screen, and the pin almost drops from my hands as I face a picture of the greatest of the missing Nocturne Court artifacts, the Sunwolf Crown. Lost in the aftermath of the Night of the Bloodknife, centuries ago, it was thought to be gone forever, yet the powerful relic I’ve so often seen in a fresco at the back of the throne room stares at me from the screen with onyx eyes. Shaped like the skull of a huge wolf, yet molded to rest on a human’s head, it has crystal teeth and symbolic sun rays shooting up from the smooth part meant to rest on the wearer’s scalp. It’s made of solarin, not platinum and gold, and much more priceless than the TV presenter discussing the “bold robbery” could ever know. She claims it’s been found by archaeologists in Mexico just two years ago, and I cannot believe it’s been in the human realm this whole time.
So many times, my mother has mentioned that if only one of us Goldweeds claimed it, the Lord of the Nocturne Court would fear us enough to share his power. But if I could put my hands on such a prize and offer it to Lord Kyran, my banishment—
“Breaking news! The missing truck moving two dangerous prisoners has been found. It seems that the driver lost control of the vehicle, but one of the convicts murdered the other survivors in cold blood and seems to have escaped, so remain vigilant. He is dangerous,” a presenter speaks as I hand over all my cash. The shopkeeper’s gaze trails down my top in a way I can’t decipher, and as she opens her register to deposit the money, I raise my gaze to see a familiar face on the screen and I can no longer think about the Sunwolf Crown.
“If you see this man, do not approach him, he may be armed. Instead, alert the sheriff’s department.” The person on the TV reads out a phone number as I stare at Hawk’s likeness. He looks much more imposing in the picture, without even a hint of smile, and the harsh lighting isn’t doing him any justice.
But I shouldn’t be considering whether his depiction is handsome or not when I’ve just learned he has escaped prison and murdered several people.
My mouth is dry, and only a moment later do I hear the woman point to the few cents of change she put on the counter.
“Y-yes, thank you. Good day.” I turn, hugging the plastic jar of pretzels like a lover.
This can’t be happening. My Dark Companion. Wanted.
And much more dangerous than I ever expected. Am I really such a bad judge of character? Am I naive?
I walk out of the shop and stand on its porch, sucking in air as I attempt to get to grips with this new reality. So this is the reason why he didn’t want to be seen by Mrs. Moor. So this is why he’s wearing that stupid mask. And he’s told me nothing, because he likely believes he can toy with someone as inexperienced as me.
He has no idea who he’s playing with. I’m Prince Sylvan Goldweed, and even with the damn collar around my neck, in a world so new to me, I am capable of—
“Hi there, it’s a nice day, aint it?” a male voice says, and when I spin around, I’m faced with a man who’s taller than me but not freakishly so, and who’s watching me with a smile behind his neatly-trimmed mustache. He’s relatively young, though with some creases at the eyes, and he offers me a friendly nod.
I take a glance around, but Hawk is nowhere to be seen. The car is still there though, which means he hasn’t abandoned me.
“If one considers sunshine nice,” I say with the tiniest nod back.
He laughs, shrugging. “You’re funny. That your lunch and dinner?” he asks, pointing at my pretzels.
“Sadly. Everything is vastly more expensive than it should be.”
The stranger sighs, and his gaze slides down my chest. “My truck’s parked behind the building. If you need some cash, we can make that happen.”
That piques my interest. Finally. My luck changes. “That would actually be very helpful.”
His brows rise, and he clicks his tongue, stepping off the porch. “This way. You’re looking nice, by the way.”
As we walk together, I compliment his mustache in return, since a man who wants to give me money deserves that much.