Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 213974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1070(@200wpm)___ 856(@250wpm)___ 713(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1070(@200wpm)___ 856(@250wpm)___ 713(@300wpm)
Now, the Chosen were ushered into a waking nightmare.
Gemma, one of the Chosen Ash had saved, said that many of them went missing. Most didn’t return, but those who did? They didn’t come back the same. They became something cold and starved, moving only in dark spaces. Holland had called them Craven, what I believed the poor seamstress Andreia had been turned into.
Something clicked into place as I watched them lift their veils, only enough to drink from crystal chalices. Could the Revenants have been Chosen at one time also?
I looked ahead, swallowing. The hall curved and turned as if it had been built while following a serpent. Would the Chosen help me? Could they be of any help? Probably not. The best thing for me to do would be to get past this chamber without being seen. But…
But these were Chosen.
Innocent mortals who were likely being abused. Or worse. And, gods, I thought about Andreia again. There was worse, and I could walk right—
A scream made my heart leap in my chest. My head cut to the chamber. A Chosen stood at the opening, gloved hands lifted to their veiled head.
“It’s okay.” I stepped forward. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
More screams tore through the air as another Chosen spotted me. They rushed forward, grasping the one who stood near the opening and hauling them back from me. Not that I blamed them.
I looked quite…murderous, covered in blood and carrying a sword.
A door within the chamber swung open, and a silver-haired man shuffled out, clothed in gold robes. “What in all that is holy is going—?” Gray brows shot up, causing deeper creases in his skin as he got an eyeful of me. “My gods,” he uttered.
“I’m not a threat,” I began. “I’m—”
“Guards!” the man shouted, his robes swishing as he twisted around to the door he’d come out of. “Guards!”
“Damn it,” I gasped.
Left with no choice, I took off running as fast as I could. My heart pounded in rhythm with my steps. I flew down the hall and then moved into another, the chambers on either side a blur. It was only then when it occurred to me that the guards weren’t the only thing I needed to be worried about. The vicious, flesh-eating dakkais were pets in Dalos. Little too late to worry about that now.
Shouts erupted from behind me, but I kept running, darting into another hall, a different chamber—
I came to a complete stop. I couldn’t process what I was seeing for a moment, even though I understood the soft, breathy moans and flashes of bare skin. It was all just so very unexpected.
People in all stages of undress were sprawled across the floor in groups of two, three…and, wow. My gaze danced over a woman riding a man, her heavy breasts swaying while another took her from behind, her hands and mouth full. She smiled around one cock as the man groaned…
Goodness, that took talent.
A man had another bent over the arm of a couch, his hips plunging while the other buried his head between a half-dressed woman’s thighs. She had her mouth on another woman who reclined, legs spread. Some were on gold and sapphire silk-draped mattresses. Others on couches. Some merely watched the festivities, their hands pumping cocks or fingers delving deeply inside themselves.
Blinking, I shook my head. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen something like this. After all, there were similar spaces back home at The Luxe, but these weren’t mortals. Instead, the lust-laden eyes here glowed with eather. This was a chamber full of gods fucking. Fucking gods.
Slowly, I backed out and returned to the hall.
Without a single person seeming to notice me, I was running once more. Damn it. I didn’t know where to go, and the place was a maze of halls and chambers. I skidded into yet another passageway, my breath coming out in shallow, short pants.
The area I’d entered was darker, with no windows to let any natural light in, and there was a strange smell in the air.
Metallic.
Bloody.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Unease snaked its way through me as I crept forward. Tapestries with gold brocade hung from walls and gently rippled, disturbed by some sort of breeze. I glanced up, spotting the spinning blades of fans along the ceiling.
I swallowed, pushing forward. Several chambers were empty, only full of shadows, but they… I squinted. They appeared damp. Wet. The rich scent of iron permeated the air.
There were sounds here, too, coming from candlelit spaces with shrouded archways.
Hungry, greedy noises.
I tightened my grip on the sword as I passed a marble statue of a man holding a shield in one hand, and a small child against his chest with the other.
Both were missing their heads.
Keep going, I told myself. Just keep going. There had to be a stairwell somewhere.