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 urgency inside me rises, replacing any other fear, because as soon as I think of the grimsmith, it’s not my selfish need to have Hawk that is most prominent. I remember the greed for power in Tassarion’s eyes and the threats wielded at my beloved. I need to be able to protect Hawk from people like that, shadow-wielders who would cruelly bend him to their will. I’ll only be able to do so once I have access to the darkness he holds.
I cannot wait. I need to bond with him now.
Ivy wiggles her brows with a wide smile. “You do only have this one set of wedding clothes. Don’t stain them.”
Unbelievable.
“It’s— not like that,” I say awkwardly, but I give up on trying to explain myself when she unlocks the second door and shows me a narrow and dusty corridor, which no doubt is for the sole use of the staff.
“Down there…?” I ask as she urges me forward. I sense treachery and consider threatening her, because that’s what I’ve been brought up with, but maybe not everyone is out to get me after all? When she nods, I smile again. “I will not forget this.”
I turn and boldly rush toward my promised.
Chapter 24
Hawk
The flowers on the table feel real, as does its wooden surface. Everything else I’ve touched since ending up in the tavern is sturdy and not at all made-up, yet a part of me worries I’ve swallowed strong hallucinogens, and am currently tripping in some random place. Pinching my skin doesn’t pull me out of this strange dream either, but can I trust my senses if I am on drugs?
“Stay still, please,” the elf adjusting my clothes says, and I stiffen as he moves the little stepladder he’s using to work on the upper part of the garment. Unable to make anything from scratch on short notice, the tailor decided to use the largest outfit he could find and cut open its seams so that it fits me. The garment is designed to be one of those black goth coats that brush the floor with every step of the wearer, but it only reaches my knees, and all the spots where it needed to be widened in order to accommodate my bulk are obscured with flowy, velvet fabric in a dark blue shade draped with the aid of silver buttons.
The whole thing is like a costume to my eyes, something straight off the stages of Broadway, and while it makes me look surprisingly regal, most of the people I’ve known in my former life would have laughed if they saw me like this. Still, I did leave them behind, so does their opinion matter?
“I have never seen a human as formidable as you,” the tailor says, and my eyebrows rise as I watch his fingers speed up with the needle. He’s like a human—elven sewing machine at this point. Would his pace already be considered magic, or is this just a skill here, the same way cleaning guns is back in my world?
“You mean tall?” I ask, meeting his green eyes. He is a handsome fellow with a wide, smiling mouth and pronounced cheekbones. I would definitely swipe right if I found him on Grindr. His long black braid would be very grabbable.
He’s not even looking at the stitch he’s working on, as if it’s that easy for him. “And broad. And awe-inspiring. I have never seen that much chest hair either.”
I’m not that undressed anymore, but I do recall him blushing when I first took off my hoodie.
A part of me still worries this is all an illusion, but I choose to give him the benefit of the doubt and clear my throat as nimble fingers brush my neck. “So… do you often see humans around here?”
“No, they are very rare. I have only ever seen a few and all were exceptionally handsome,” he says and smooths the fabric of my sleeves as he steps off the ladder and circles me with a fond smile. He’s nowhere near Sylvan-tiny, but still a head shorter than me and slender.
A laugh escapes my lips. “You must only be importing the best specimens.”
“Only. Can you grow one of those… beards?” he asks and brushes the stubble on my cheek with the back of his hand.
I raise my eyebrows. “You do know I’m getting married tonight, right?”
The elf pulls his hand away but isn’t in a rush to do so. I’m flattered by the attention, and I can barely believe I’m rejecting it, but thinking of Sylvan’s pretty flushed cheeks is enough for me to dream of no one else in my bed.
“I’ve heard you are to be his Dark Companion though. Not all of those bonds are romantic in nature. As far as I know, royal shadow-wielders often also have another spouse.”