Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
“You mean you’ve never seen your hands glow?” he asked. “Like twin stars?”
“They’re not glowing that brightly,” I denied.
“Yeah, they kind of are,” Kieran murmured, and Emil nodded when I looked up.
“Okay. Whatever,” I muttered. My hands were glowing brightly now. “I’ll freak out over that later.”
Beckett’s breathing steadied, and the whites of his eyes became less visible.
“Sweet gods of mercy,” someone murmured.
“Princess?”
“Hmm?” I focused on Beckett. Emotional pain was harder to cut through and whatever release I brought was incredibly short-lived, but physical pain took longer to ease. I believed it had to do with all the important nerves and veins, and physical pain almost always carried an emotional anguish with it, especially if it was as intense as it was for Beckett. Easing his pain was two-fold, but the throbbing was dulling, becoming little more than an ache. He only needed a few more moments.
“Poppy,” Casteel called, and this time, I looked over at him. Sunlight glinted off the curve of his cheek as his gaze swept over me, around me. “You’re glowing. Not just your hands. You.”
Chapter 29
Good gods, I was.
A silvery glow radiated out from under the sleeves of my tunic.
“You look like moonlight,” Casteel whispered, and it wasn’t the sunlight reflecting over his cheek. It was me.
The fur thinned under my fingers, replaced by clammy skin as Beckett shifted into his mortal form. I lifted my hands, rocking back on my rear as Vonetta swept forward, draping a blanket she must’ve grabbed over the boy’s waist. His legs…they were a mottled, angry shade of red and violet, but they were straight and no longer twisted.
Aided by Alastir, Beckett sat up, his pale, sweat-slick face quickly gaining color. Someone was talking. Maybe Casteel asking if he were in pain? Beckett didn’t answer as he stared at me, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Am I still glowing?” My hands weren’t, but maybe my face was? Because it felt like everyone was staring at me.
Casteel shook his head and then looked down at Beckett. “I think…I think you healed his legs.”
“No.” I glanced down at my hands—at my normal, flesh-toned palms. “I can’t do that.”
“But you did,” Casteel insisted.
Beckett still stared at me. So did Alastir. And Emil. And everyone else.
“I can’t,” I repeated.
“Can you move your legs?” Kieran asked, and when Beckett continued to do nothing but stare, the wolven leaned over me and snapped his fingers. “Beckett. Focus. Can you move your legs?”
The young wolven blinked as if he were waking up from a spell. He drew his left leg up, wincing, but then extended it with little trouble. Then he repeated it with the right. “I… I can move them. There’s pain but nothing like before. Thank you.” Astounded eyes met mine. “I don’t know how to repay you. Thank you.” Before I could tell him there was no need for repayment, he twisted at the waist toward the Prince. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s not anyone’s fault. I wasn’t paying attention—”
“It’s all right.” Casteel placed his hand on the boy’s slim shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”
“I know.” His eyes glistened as he fought back emotion. “I should’ve—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Casteel repeated.
Beckett exhaled roughly as he fisted the blanket lying over him. He bent his left leg once more, sucking his lip between his teeth. Maybe his legs hadn’t been as injured as we thought they were.
Casteel rocked back as his gaze flicked from me to Alastir. “You think you can get him to the training fields? You can take one of our horses. I want Talia to look at him.”
Alastir blinked, dragging his gaze from me. “Of course.”
Sliding an arm under Beckett’s shoulders, Emil helped him stand. He took a tentative step while holding the cloak to his midsection, smiling in relief when his legs held his weight.
“Thank you,” Alastir said to me.
I could only nod. “I don’t think he was as badly hurt as we thought.”
“Yes,” Alastir said, but he didn’t sound like he believed me.
Rising then, Casteel turned to the others. “Beckett will be fine. The Healer will take a look at him.”
The people, a mixture of wolven, Atlantian, and mortal nodded, but there was a thickness to the air, and it settled over my skin like a coarse blanket. I didn’t dare look up as Casteel ushered the group away. It was palpable. The crowd’s emotions. Raw and unfettered. I closed my eyes, trembling with the effort it took to keep my senses locked down, but it was no use. I split open, and the whirl of spinning emotions poured into me. Shock. Confusion. Awe. More shock. Something extremely bitter. Fear. Why would anyone fear me?
“Poppy.” Casteel touched my shoulder, jolting me. “Are you all right?”
I opened my eyes, letting out a ragged breath of relief when I noticed that it was just him—him and Kieran and Vonetta. I didn’t dare look too far. If I did, I would never be able to close myself down.