A Curse of Blood & Stone – Fate & Flame Read Online K.A. Tucker

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
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Elisaf clears his throat as if to remind us he’s still here.

“Go on.” He jerks his chin toward it. “I will be there as soon as I can.”

It’s a dismissal—he wants to speak to Elisaf—but I don’t care because it’s quickly turning miserable out here, and he’s already made his promise to me for tonight.

I’m humming as I head for shelter.

“How is that, Your Highness?” Eden kneels before the brazier, rubbing her hands together. We lit it together, her teaching me how to stack the coal. Now it burns low, enough to fight the drop in temperature. Outside the shelter of this little tent, the wind blows in a biting cold.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She beams with pride. “Do you need more bedding?”

I survey the silky soft furs beneath me. “I think I have enough.” Whatever heat I need, I’ll get when my body is pressed against Zander’s.

A twinge of anxiousness pricks me. He said he’d be here as soon as possible, but it’s been at least an hour. “Where are you sleeping tonight, Eden? Do you know?”

“They’ve set up a large tent for the mortals. It will be far more comfortable than sleeping in that cramped wagon. Or worse, out in the open like last night. I don’t think I slept.”

Did she hear Ianca’s wails before Gesine set that shield? “Are you still happy you came with me?”

Her smile drops off, replaced by stark seriousness. “Oh yes! I’m not complaining! I would never wish to be anywhere else—”

I laugh. “Relax, Eden. It’s okay, even if you want to complain. And trust me, I was crawling up the walls in my wagon earlier. That’s why I ended up riding all afternoon.”

“Yes, I imagine that would have been more pleasant.” She giggles nervously. “Can I speak freely?”

“You don’t have to ask me that.”

“I do, but …” She bites her lip as if testing her thoughts before uttering them. “You are like no other immortal I’ve ever met. Is it because you are Ybarisan?”

No, it’s because I’m human. If only I could explain. “Maybe.”

She shifts the hot coals with a set of iron tongs. “I’m happy traveling with you. I do look forward to being somewhere more … permanent, but I was not lying when I said there was nowhere I would rather be than here, with you and the king.”

“Who is not technically the king right now,” I remind her.

“But he will be again. I have faith.” Her firm nod says she truly believes that.

I want to believe it too. But what will happen to me then? I don’t expect Islor will welcome me with open arms … ever. Will Zander defy them and marry me? Or will he keep what we have hidden?

How long can a king rule with a shadow queen?

The flap to my tent pulls open, and in barges Jarek, his tall, muscular frame filling the space. “The witch wants to speak to you outside.”

“Now?” I make a point of shivering against the wave of brusque cold he let in. His clothes are still dry, so at least it doesn’t look like it’s raining yet. “Why?”

“How would I know? I’m not her messenger.”

“But you kind of are.”

His sigh is laced with irritation. “Must you have the last word every time?”

“Yeah?”

He shakes his head before dismissing me, his steely eyes shifting to Eden. “The stew is ready. Have you eaten?”

“No, not yet.” She clears a sudden hoarseness from her throat and emphasizes her answer with a sharp headshake. But her cheeks are burning.

I stifle my groan, seeing where this is going. “Tell Gesine I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Tell her yourself,” he mutters, and in the next breath, his voice softens. “I will ensure there is a bowl waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” Eden’s hands stall with the tongs, her smile following him out of my tent. When she realizes I’m watching her, she stiffens and refocuses on her task.

“What is it about him you find attractive?” Yes, his face is enticing, as is his body—I can say so with confidence after that day I saw all of him in the river—but he’s such an asshole. Then again, I would have said the same about Zander initially. And maybe if Zander wasn’t in the picture, I might find Jarek appealing, too, in some twisted way.

But I’m a conniving thief, a practiced liar, a survivor.

Eden seems too pure for the likes of him.

Her mouth hangs open, faltering on her words as she searches for an answer she thinks I’d want to hear.

“No judgment. I’m curious what a nice girl like you finds attractive about a brutal warrior like him.” The guy may have murdered those Freywich keepers on orders from Zander, but he enjoyed every second of the monstrous act.

She swallows hard. “His strength. His fearlessness.” She bites her bottom lip. “His kindness, on the rare occasion he shows it.”


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