Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Atlas appears in a flurry of blades and fury.
He is so large he takes out much of the doorway as he comes through, chunks of rock and plaster flying along with spurts of blue blood as he cuts through various parts of Sheriff.
I watch as the man who saved me, then hunted me throughout the universe, is blended in an open air blender. Bits of him fly everywhere as he becomes little more than a hot spray and a wet aftermath.
Am I horrified?
I would have been before Emrys and his sacrifice. Now I am something else. Something that concerns me deeply.
I am hungry.
I reach for a handful of Sheriff. I don’t know what I’m getting. Something meaty and bloody. Who knows what part of him it is. I stuff it into my mouth with the same instinct a baby shoves any given object into its face. My instincts demand it.
“Easy… easy…”
Emrys does the same thing dog owners do when their puppy gets into something it shouldn’t, pushing his fingers into my mouth and popping out what turns out to be a hunk of shattered bone.
In the aftermath of the quickest resolution to the longest episode of lethal trouble in my life, Aristo comes rushing in while Emrys does his best to stop me from consuming more bits of ex-dad. I am so fiercely hungry. There’s something about the smell of blood that is driving me absolutely wild.
Aristo enters the room far too late to help, but just in time to look appalled and horrified at the scene he finds. For a valker to be concerned at the sight of blood and gore is quite a rarity, given their penchant for rampant destruction and wanton cruelty. Perhaps he’s not actually surprised. Maybe he’s shocked at the scythkin’s artistry.
“I’m sorry, my liege. We attempted to stop the scythkin, but there is no meaningful way to do so. He’s very… sharp.”
“It’s alright. He did us all a favor,” Emrys says.
“Sorry,” Atlas says. Blood drips from the tips of his spikes and blades. “I heard what he was saying, and I may have somewhat lost control.”
“Not at all, friend. You’ve saved us all a great deal of… no, human girl. No. You’re not ready to eat raw flesh as yet. It will give you the worst stomachache of your life.”
Emrys once again deprives me of what I’ve decided is food, firmly pulling me away from the bulk of the carcass which I had managed to drag toward me while everyone else was talking. I want to eat. I want to devour big, thick chunks of freshly killed meat. I want to eat the cruelty of the numahn who raised me and betrayed me. It would nourish me. I would have revenge. I would be free of all the pain and torment he put me through all the years I ran from him. All the desperate things I did to avoid him. If I eat him, it will be like they never happened.
“Stop it this instant!” Emrys’ tone goes cold as he starts to lose patience with my disobedience. “I have told you, you are not ready.”
“I want to eat him!”
“And you will. You will consume him once he has been properly cooked, and not a moment before.”
The thought of cooked flesh makes my stomach turn. I don’t want to eat meat the way I used to, the juicy, soft fibers turned to tough bits I’ll have to chew. I want to drink and swallow in easy chunks.
“It’s not fair!”
“Don’t be petulant,” Emrys lectures me. “Behave yourself and thank Atlas for not only providing your first proper meal, but for solving the problem of the Sheriff.”
I tear my gaze away from the pieces of person and look at Atlas. The last time we saw one another, I was a sweet little thing in a frilly gown. Now I am a half-naked wretch in a blood frenzy.
The scythkin stands in his most monstrous form before me, while behind me a beast of pure evil holds me still, but I am perhaps the worst creature left alive in this space. I am hunger incarnate. I am nothing but need. My appetite is even more intense now, both for flesh and for… flesh. That’s all I want now. It feels like it is the only thing I am capable of wanting.
“Say thank you,” Emrys prompts me again.
My muscles bunch and gather for a swift moment before I throw myself off the bed and into the arms of the scythkin who saved me. Fortunately for me, Atlas’s reflexes are faster than I am. He manages to retract the many blades that would have skewered me and catch me in powerful, hard arms, holding me close.
“You ran away, naughty girl,” he lectures me gently as I lap the blood of my father from his chest, licking the smooth carapace clean with eagerness. “I was worried about you.”