Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
A killer.
A monster.
I drove the spear into a god’s heart and then tore it free. Several strands of hair whipped around my face as I spun, striking down another and then another. Twisting sharply, I used the spear’s side to knock a fallen god away as I jerked the spear back, impaling the god behind me. Snarling, I kicked the fallen free as I turned, driving the point through the back of a head. Orphine followed, catching others between her powerful jaws or burning them with fire. She stayed close to me as I worked my way through the courtyard.
I didn’t keep track of how many lives were lost—how many I was taking—as sweat dampened my brow. I’d ended seventeen lives before I came to the Shadowlands—eighteen if I counted Tavius. My lip curled in disgust as I thrust once more. I didn’t count my stepbrother, as he was below even a barrat, but I hadn’t tallied since I’d entered the Shadowlands, and I couldn’t start now.
Blood stained my robe as I spun, driving the spear through a back and then a head. My muscles ached, but adrenaline pumped hotly through me as I whirled, jabbing the shadowstone spear through the chest of a fallen god on fire. Bolts of eather ripped through the smoke, coming from Bele and Ector as well as several of the guards. I quickly noticed that the ones Ector and the other guards hit with eather were only wounded, but the ones that Bele struck went down for the count. Hadn’t Saion been willing to bet that Bele was stronger now? That was a bet he’d win.
Spinning, I slammed the side of the spear into one of the fallen gods that Ector had hit with eather, knocking it to the ground. I lifted the weapon—
My world turned silver as a bolt of eather arced and crackled mere inches from my face. I wrenched back, my bare feet slipping on what could only be blood pooling beneath them. I hit the ground, ignoring the wetness drenching my robe and knees as another streak of essence burned through the spot where I’d been standing—
Orphine yelped, staggering back as the eather struck her. I cried out as the energy raced over her body, lighting up the veins and ridges of her scales. I popped to my feet as Orphine reared up on her hind legs, swinging her wings back. One slammed into my chest, and I was suddenly off my feet, flying backward.
I hit the ground hard. Air punched out of my lungs, but I somehow managed to hold onto the spear. “Ouch.” I moaned, knowing I couldn’t stay down long. I rolled and got to my feet, about to yell at whoever had the worst aim, but as I turned—
I came face-to-face with a god.
A completely well-fed and well-dressed god, fair of hair and skin and carrying a healthy glow that screamed that he hadn’t spent a second of his life entombed. Breathing heavily, I didn’t strike out. I had no idea if this was one of the Shadowlands gods that I hadn’t met.
“Pale-haired.” He looked me over, his eyes narrowing. “Freckled. You must be her.” The god’s head tilted to the side as he began to smile. “And here I thought I would have to go inside to find you. But you are…charmed.”
“Fuck,” I whispered. This was a powerful god.
“Maybe later.” He winked as I lifted the spear. His gaze flicked behind me. “Or not.”
A hand clamped down on my braid, jerking me back. The smell of soil and decay enveloped me. Years of training kicked in as the fallen god gripped my shoulder from behind and went for my throat. I twisted to the side—
Sudden, shocking pain blasted through me as fangs shredded the skin of my shoulder. The fallen god latched on, its nails slicing through the robe. It didn’t seem to care that it had missed my throat. I reacted without thought, tearing myself free. Red-hot pain swamped me, and flesh ripped—maybe even muscle. Gritting my teeth, I faced the fallen.
She was…fresh. Her skin wasn’t as chalky or sunken as the others. She even looked young, about my age. Blood streamed down her chin—my blood. Her eyes flashed with eather, intense and unnerving. She launched herself at me.
Agony radiated from my shoulder and shot down my arm as I thrust up. I took the impact of the spear piercing her chest badly, falling to a knee under the weight as the spear ended up wedged between her and the ground. Cursing, I rose, unsheathing my dagger as I turned.
The male god was still there, unmoving and untouched by the chaos of smoke and death. “Interesting. Your blood. It smells like…life.” He sniffed the air, and the glow of essence pulsed behind his pupils as his eyes widened. “Blood. Ash. Blood and—”