Total pages in book: 219
Estimated words: 210867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 703(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 703(@300wpm)
“It’s okay,” I told her, lifting the crossbow and pulling the trigger.
The bolt slammed into my target, knocking Phillips back from Poppy with such force that the guard was impaled on the pole behind them as Poppy toppled forward onto her knees.
I lowered the crossbow as she looked to where Jericho stood, the shaggy-haired bastard smiling. Then she saw Phillips’ fallen sword lying among the straw. I knew the exact moment she saw the blood dripping onto it—saw Phillips. She jerked.
Luddie, the other guard, shouted, lifting his sword as he charged forward. “With my sword and my—”
Delano fired a bolt as he stepped out of the shadows of the stalls, catching Luddie from behind and taking him to the straw-strewn ground.
The last guard made a run for it. I couldn’t remember his name.
Kieran was faster, leaping into the air. He landed on the mortal, his claws digging into his back as he clamped his powerful jaws around the Huntsman’s neck, snapping it.
There was silence.
That didn’t last either.
Jericho strode forward, smirking as he looked down at Poppy. “I’m so glad I’m here to witness this moment.”
“Shut up, Jericho,” I bit out, the wind whipping at my back.
Poppy lifted her head, her eyes locking with mine. Her braid had fallen over her shoulder, and that one strand of hair was in her face, as always. I realized she wasn’t wearing her cloak. Had Phillips planned to take her out unprotected in the weather? She would’ve frozen or become ill. I didn’t feel a smidgen of guilt for killing the imbecile.
“Hawke?” she whispered, her empty hand grasping at the damp straw.
I felt nothing.
Poppy recoiled, her chest rising rapidly.
I was nothing.
“Please tell me I can kill her,” Jericho said. “I know exactly what pieces I want to cut up and send back.”
“Touch her, and you’ll lose more than a hand this time,” I warned him, my gaze never leaving hers. “We need her alive.”
A BROKEN BREATH
“You’re no fun,” Jericho muttered as Poppy stared up at me. “Have I told you that before?”
“A time or a dozen,” I said.
Poppy flinched.
She’d flinched because of me. I couldn’t let myself process that. Nor could I allow myself to see what I did in her eyes. I already knew what was there. Disbelief. Dawning understanding. Horror. Pain. Betrayal—
I looked away, my gaze skipping over the bloodied straw and bodies. “This mess needs to be cleaned up.”
Kieran shook his head, then rose. The sound of his bones shortening and cracking back into place only lasted seconds. Once more, he stood beside me in his mortal form. I looked for signs of his injury, seeing only a faint mark on his side. I raised a brow at the torn breeches. Usually, he made no attempt to make sure his clothing survived the transition. I imagined he’d done it for her. My jaw locked once more.
“This isn’t the only mess that needs to be cleaned up,” Kieran said, stretching his neck muscles.
I knew he wasn’t talking about her. He was talking about me. This mess I’d created—one gaining an audience. People were filling the shadows of the barn and behind me, drawn by the commotion.
I looked at Poppy. She’d sat back, her chest still rising too fast, too shallowly. “You and I need to talk.”
“Talk?” Poppy laughed, but it reminded me of crackling flames.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” I said, softening my voice as I saw her grip on the dagger tighten.
She flinched again.
I inhaled sharply through my nose.
“Where…?” Poppy tried again. “Where are the other two guards?”
“Dead,” I admitted, watching her closely. “It was an unfortunate necessity.”
Poppy went silent. I kept an eye on that dagger. Needing to get her out of here before she did something that provoked the others to react, I took a step toward her.
“No.” Poppy launched to her feet. “Tell me what’s going on here.”
I stopped, forcing my voice even lower. “You know what’s going on here.”
Poppy opened her mouth. Her gaze darted to where Elijah stood beside Magda behind me. Soft footsteps sounded, and I knew at least Magda had left. She had a good heart and soul. She didn’t want to see this.
“Phillips was right,” Poppy said, her voice trembling.
“He was?” I handed the crossbow to Naill as he came up behind me.
“I do believe Phillips had begun to figure things out,” Kieran answered. “They were coming out of the room when I went up to check on her. She didn’t seem to believe whatever it was he’d told her, though.”
I saw it again in Poppy’s face—another moment of realization. The way her face paled, causing the scars to stand out more. How her chest rose sharply. The tremor that went through her.
I pressed my lips together as I felt that wall I’d fortified, that mess inside me, begin to crack. Elijah was right, I reminded myself. No one here could see any of that, not even Poppy.