War of Hearts Read online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
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Cold.

Unearthly.

Her hair moved around her head like it was floating in water and Conall shot a look down the boat at all the passengers who might witness the strangeness, or worse, get caught in the crossfire of Thea’s anger.

“Thea, you need to calm down.” He strode over to her and the boat lurched unnaturally beneath their feet, causing passengers to cry out in shock. “Thea!”

He watched her squeeze her eyes closed, her hands fisting at her sides as she took long, slow, deep breaths. Her hair abruptly dropped back into place, the static disappearing. When she opened her eyes, they were brown again.

Conall would have breathed a sigh of relief if she wasn’t looking at him like he’d betrayed her. “Thea, I barely even remembered Sienna’s existence until the other day.”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead.

Thea brushed past him but Conall had to make her understand. He grabbed her arm, hauling her close. “Thea, please.”

She jerked out of his hold and his panic intensified.

He was losing her.

He felt it.

Fuck.

“But you knew.” She glared at him in disgust. “And you touched me anyway, knowing you’re practically engaged.”

“It’s not like that,” he spat out in angry desperation. “You’re simplifying it. I barely know the woman and there are no promises between us. We never signed an agreement. I didnae betray her and I didnae betray you. This …” He gestured between them. “You know neither of us meant for this to happen.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, her voice as flat as her expression, “it happened. Now it’s over.”

No! His mind vehemently denied it, taking him even by surprise. “Thea.” He reached for her, but she flinched away.

“Don’t touch me.”

A burn scored across Conall’s chest, turning fiery with pain as she continued. “You’re just like everyone else.” Her expression turned heartbreakingly bleak. “I can’t trust anyone.”

Something snapped in him. He hauled her into his arms, refusing to let go. “That’s not true.” His voice was rough with impatience. “You can always trust me.”

“Conall, let go of me.”

“I cannae.” He pressed his forehead to hers, realizing the tragic truth in his words. “Fuck, Thea, I cannae let you go.”

Her voice was small, a whisper of pain. “You have to. For Callie.”

The impossibility of his choice had never been clearer or more agonizing. “Whatever I choose … I risk a woman I care about.”

Thea tensed in his arms and then abruptly pushed out of his hold. Her eyes were hard, her countenance cool, unfeeling, her words even more so. “You know your choice. You save your sister, you marry a wolf who can give you a future and a family, and you forget about me. Just like I will forget about you.”

Conall watched her walk away. He wanted to hate her for her words. But the only person he loathed right then was himself.

He’d damaged the trust between them.

It would be easier to let things lie. Let Thea build her walls against him. Going their separate ways wouldn’t be so difficult with animosity and distrust between them instead of intimacy.

Yet as they drove off the ferry, the SUV’s sat nav leading them toward Vik’s apartment, Conall couldn’t stand Thea’s icy silence.

There was no way he’d last a day with such fucking awful distance between them.

Never mind a lifetime.

Perhaps it was childish to slight Conall but seeing the muscle flex in his jaw every time she ignored a question and looked right through him was too satisfying to stop.

She tried to concentrate on the fact that she was in Norway for the first time. Oslo was still cold in late April, so she’d changed in the cabin before they’d departed, putting a T-shirt on under her shirt for added warmth. She’d watched their approach to Oslo from the other side of the ferry, trying to ignore the ache in her chest.

Dark green, snow-dusted islands sat within the gray waters of Oslofjord. Homes of all sizes dotted the islands and the coastline, houses made of timber with wooden shingles exactly like the houses along the New England coastline. These homes were brightly colored in reds and oranges and blues and greens—like little birds of paradise in amongst all the gray.

Thea had shivered in the chilly, crisp, fresh morning and couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken in a lungful of such clean air.

The city had morphed into a different personality than the one that greeted her on board the ferry. As she’d reluctantly reunited with Conall and he’d driven the SUV into the city, Oslo had become surprisingly commercial as they drove through a system of concrete tunnels and convoluted traffic circles. They passed glass buildings, stores, and tall hotels, but it all soon changed again as they moved out of the central roadway.

The buildings aged, painted like the houses along the fjord in a variety of pretty colors. In the summer Oslo must be lush with green because they passed park after park, all the grass and trees still slightly brown and bare as they slowly woke up with the spring.


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