Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Not yet, but we will soon. The king belongs in the Midnight Palace, and I won’t have that bitch in the way when my king is ready.”
Protective rage washes over me. I could go out in that corridor and end them both now.
“Perhaps Winstom was right. Perhaps we should strike sooner rather than—”
“Patience. Our king will make it so in his time.”
I’ve heard enough, but I’ve only taken a step toward the stairs when rough fingers drag me into a dark room, and I find myself wrapped against a warm, hard chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?” an angry voice growls against my ear.
“Release me,” I sing, letting the seductive power of the ring honey my tone.
“First you tell me what you’re doing here.”
Even if I could turn around, it’s too dark in here to see his face, but I know Kendrick’s husky voice better than I know most anything. I know it as the only part of those nights locked in the darkness worth remembering.
“Jasalyn, answer me.”
I jerk around at the sound of my name, taking only a moment to confirm with a swipe of my thumb that my ring is in place.
The magic of the ring makes people obey me. Those around me are hypnotized by my presence.
He must not be able to see me. I tug, but his hold on me is too strong.
“Release me,” I repeat.
“Gods, it really is you. You really are this foolish.” Then the heat of him is gone, and he’s swinging the door shut and leading me into an attached room, where candlelight flickers on the wall. For the first time, I can see his face, and more importantly, now he can see mine.
“Kendrick.”
His gaze rakes over me and his nostrils flare. Does he see the mystical, seductive aura of the ring or does he see me? There’s no sign of that magical awe in his eyes. But if he sees me, then how?
“What are you doing here in your gods-damned nightgown?”
I lift my chin. “I could ask you the same.”
“I’m here because the faeries downstairs who fancy themselves rebels know more about the plans and locations of Mordeus’s followers than we do, and we need that information if the sword isn’t at Feegus Keep. But, unlike you, I was wise enough to wear gods-damned clothes.”
“I didn’t think I’d be leaving the tavern.” I shrug. “My plans changed.”
“Why aren’t you in bed? How did you get past Skylar? And why the hell did Natan let you leave?”
“Maybe I’m stealthier than you realize.”
“Do you know where you are?” He glances over his shoulder toward the door he closed behind us.
“Do I look stupid?” I ask.
His jaw hardens. “You ask me that when I find you lurking around a rebel hideout. The Unseelie princess in the home of the queen’s greatest enemies. Given the context, I don’t think you’d like my answer. I’ll ask one more time. Why are you here?”
I shrug. “Revenge.”
“Go home, Jasalyn.”
“Home?” I cock my head to the side. “Where is that, exactly? The human realm of Elora where I was sent to recover from Mordeus’s dungeons only to find myself ripped from bed in the middle of the night for a different evil fae’s purposes? Or is home supposed to be that palace where my sister—my faerie sister—rules? The palace that serves as a daily reminder that I have the blood of those whom I hate most running through my veins? Or is home that tiny bunk bed in that moldy inn with your friends who would’ve left me chained in that cottage if they’d had a choice? Which home would you like me to go to?” I draw in a ragged breath. Why isn’t my ring keeping me calm?
Kendrick doesn’t look surprised by my outburst. He scans my face, and I wonder what he’s searching for, wonder again why my ring isn’t working.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “About all of that. But you aren’t safe here. The second someone recognizes you, they will take you, and they will use you to manipulate the queen. They will use you to bring down your sister. Is that what you want?”
“They won’t recognize me. I’m spelled.” I hold up the hand with my ring, hoping it’s still true even though the magic doesn’t seem to be working on Kendrick.
“And if this spell fails?”
I try to bite my tongue but can’t. “What do you see when you look at me?”
He shakes his head. “I see Jasalyn.” He sweeps his gaze over me, assessing. “A more grown-up version of the girl who was kept in the cell across from mine in Mordeus’s dungeons.”
I bite my bottom lip. “But how?”
“Are you okay? I see you because you’re standing in front of me.”
Taking his hand, I lead him to the mirror that sits atop a dresser on the opposite side of the dimly lit room. “What do you see there?”