Total pages in book: 239
Estimated words: 224443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 898(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 898(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Nyktos didn’t even blink.
The draken drifted closer to Nyktos, his red-eyed stare shifting from me to the Primal. Nektas leaned in, speaking too low for me to hear. Attention remaining fixed on me, Nyktos’ chest rose with a swift, deep breath.
A long moment passed, and then he finally looked away from me to focus on Nektas. “You should be on the wall just in case I was wrong about the reprieve.”
Nektas shook his head. “Others are there. They are standing guard.”
“I’d rather have you there.”
“I’d rather not leave your side,” the draken countered. “Not now.”
“I’m fine,” the Primal stated, his voice low. “I told you that three times now.”
“Five times, actually.” Nektas held his ground. “And I don’t have to tell you that I know better.”
All thoughts of what I’d just screamed at the Primal fell to the wayside. My attention shifted to the tears in his tunic. The splotches of darker material along his chest had spread.
Ector hopped off the dais. “How much of that blood is yours?”
“Most of it,” Nyktos answered, and the draken gave a low growl of disapproval.
“Shit,” Rhain muttered, joining Ector on the floor. “Are your wounds not healing?”
“Do you want to die tonight?” Nyktos fired back.
Saion widened his eyes as he stared at the floor, saying nothing more.
“I could try,” I started, and Nyktos’ head swung in my direction. “My gift—the ember. It worked on the wounded hawk.”
“Besides the fact that the ember of life isn’t powerful enough to work on me or a god,” he said, “I’m not sure I’d trust you enough to let you try even that.”
I flinched. I flinched again.
Nyktos’ nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply, looking away. “I just need to clean up, which I plan to do now if that would make all of you feel better,” Nyktos said.
“That is not what would make me feel better,” Nektas replied.
“Too bad.” Nyktos glared at the draken. He started to turn and then looked back at me, his jaw hard. He refocused on Nektas. “Put her somewhere safe, where she can’t do whatever idiotic thing is surely filling her head. She assigns no value to her life.”
I opened my mouth, but Nektas cut me off. “That I can do.”
“Perfect,” the Primal snarled and turned, his boots a heavy thud against the shadowstone floor as he stormed out of the throne room.
As soon as I could no longer see him, I turned to Nektas. “How badly is he injured?”
“You don’t have to pretend in front of us,” Ector retorted.
Spinning toward him, I lifted a finger and pointed it at him. “What in the fuck did I just say about not telling me what to feel? That goes for you, too,” I said, and Ector’s brows flew up. I turned back around. “That goes for all of you.”
Everyone, including the draken, stared at me.
Saion cleared his throat. “He was swarmed on the docks and the beach. The dakkais got in a lot of hits.”
Rhain exchanged a concerned look with Ector. “How bad?”
“Bad enough that he needs to feed,” Nektas answered. “And stubborn enough to ride it out.”
“Hell.” Ector ran a hand over his face.
My stomach pitched as I remembered what Nyktos had told me over our first breakfast. “What happens if he doesn’t feed and rides it out? Will he turn into…something dangerous? He mentioned something along those lines before.”
Nektas tilted his chin. “He’s weak enough that he could tip over into that.”
Rhain cursed again.
“But even if he doesn’t, he’s still weakened,” Nektas continued. “And that’s the last thing we need right now.”
I shoved a tangle of hair back from my face. “Why won’t he feed?”
Nektas’s gaze met mine. “Because he’s been forced to feed until he’s killed. That’s why.”
My lips parted. I took a step back as if I could somehow put distance between what Nektas had said and me. But I thought about the breakfast that morning, how I’d thought that he had been held against his will. I closed my eyes. “Did Kolis hold him prisoner?”
A long stretch of silence passed before Nektas said, “Kolis has done all manner of things to him.”
The heaviness in my chest felt like it would drag me down to the floor. “How…how do we get him to feed?”
“We don’t,” Rhain said. “We just hope he rides it out.”
“Actually, I think we can get him to feed now,” Nektas shared, and I opened my eyes to find him watching me. “He’s mad enough at you that he’d probably feed from you.”
I blinked once and then twice. “I’m…I’m not sure how I feel about the ease in which you suggested that.”
The draken raised his brows. “But?”
But Nyktos was weak, and it was the last thing they needed. He needed to feed, and if I had been ready to possibly be burned alive by a draken after killing Nyktos, I could prepare myself for this.