Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“That doesn’t make any sense. None of you can survive without mortal blood, including the king.”
A knowing glimmer sparks in his eye. “Don’t you mean none of us can survive?”
I grit my teeth against the curse that wants to slip out, but it’s too late. I’ve made my mistake, and it seems he was hoping for it.
“I was in Cirilea a few months ago. I left the city before the Ybarisans arrived, so I didn’t see this princess, but I’ve heard she’s a real beauty. Hair that’s black as night, eyes as light as a morning sky.” His gaze narrows. “A drop of her blood as toxic as ten thousand viper bites.”
I’ve watched enough sparring sessions from the castle balcony to know this guy moves with the precision of a trained soldier. We have no chance of outmaneuvering him. I can only hope to outsmart him, and he doesn’t seem as stupid as the other two. He’s a raider who keeps his ear to the ground.
“This is Queen Isla’s ring, isn’t it?” He holds up his hand. My ring sits on his pinkie. “The prince gave it to you when he proposed.”
“A scumbag who knows his history. How charming.”
“What’s he talking about, my lady?” Pan whispers.
“Nothing.” I squeeze his forearm, meeting his eyes. “When I tell you to, run.”
“What? I can’t—”
“If you know who I am, then you know what I’m worth,” I say loudly, drowning out Pan’s protests. I release my grip on him and edge in close to the fire. “Land, gold, a lordship.”
The male’s step falters.
I smile. “Oh, you hadn’t heard that part yet, huh? But you’ll only get it if you bring me back alive.”
“And why would the king care one way or another if you’re alive?”
“Because we have unfinished business. You know, with me killing his parents, and nearly killing him. I guess Atticus wants to make a spectacle of my execution.”
“That would make sense.” I see the wheels churning in his eyes.
That’s when I strike, kicking the stack of burning logs toward him. “Run!” I scream, giving Pan a shove. “Run, or you’re dead!”
With a wild look in his eyes, he sprints off.
The time I hoped I’d bought is not enough, and when I turn back, the male is already charging toward me. But his balance is off as he beats down the flames that grip his pants, threatening to spread, and I use that to my advantage, lunging as Abarrane taught me.
I aim for his chest, but he shifts at the last moment, and my dagger catches his sword arm, slicing deep across his biceps.
He howls in protest but keeps coming. His body slams into mine, sending me sprawling onto my back, the wind knocked out of me, my dagger flying from my grip.
A stabbing pain explodes in my thigh.
“You think you’ve saved him? That dumb kid won’t last a night out here alone,” he hisses.
“He might surprise you,” I push out through my agony. He surprised me, how convincingly he stood up there and lied to a crowd, to Lord Rengard, to me.
Not to Zander, though.
“I don’t care one way or another, now that I have you.” The male inhales. “Your Ybarisan blood doesn’t smell different.”
“There must be something wrong with you then. You should have that checked out by a doctor.”
His responding laugh is wicked. “You have a smart-mouthed answer for everything, don’t you?” He hauls himself up. “Let’s see how smart that mouth is when you’re on your knees in front of the king, begging for your—”
I see movement a second before a thump sounds and the male slumps to the ground beside me, unconscious. Pan hovers behind him, his chest heaving with adrenaline, his eyes wide, the wooden log gripped within his hands like a baseball bat.
“You were supposed to run.” But I’m so glad he didn’t.
“I told you, not without you.” He tosses his makeshift weapon away.
I try to pull myself up, but the pain in my thigh is unbearable.
“Oh.” Pan grimaces at where a branch on a fallen log has impaled my leg.
Our attacker won’t be unconscious forever, and we can’t get away with me anchored here.
“Okay, this is … not as bad as the daaknar’s claws,” I remind myself. Gritting my teeth, I yank my leg free. The resulting shot of pain has me leaning over and spilling the pretzel from my stomach onto the forest floor. Where previously plugged by the branch, blood now pours freely from the wound.
“Here.” Pan tears a strip of material from the poisoned man’s shirt and binds my leg. “That should work for now.” He hauls me to my feet. For a scrawny guy several inches shorter than me, he’s surprisingly strong.
The male lets out a feeble moan.
“Go, Pan. You can still get away.”
“So I can have that arrow in my arse? I told you, near you is the safest place.” He slips my arm over his shoulder. Together, we hobble into the trees.