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)
Jas hugs herself and rubs her bare arms. It’s so cold in here. So cold and so dark. She hates the dark. “I can pay anything. Whatever it takes, I’ll get the money. Just tell me the price.”
“I don’t need more money. I need better tools.” She pauses, eyes assessing even in the darkness. “I need the Grimoricon.”
Jas shakes her head. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Your sister tells you nothing? It’s a large book of spells and enchantments sacred to the Faerie realm. The book itself is magical and holds the key to truly powerful magic. I cannot give you what you ask without it.”
A book. Just a book to be free of this suffocating fear. “Where can I find it?”
“It’s in the palace,” she says. “For too long it was hidden in the Serenity Palace in the Court of the Sun, but your sister returned it to the shadow court as part of her deal with Mordeus when you were captured.”
Yes, Brie said something about retrieving a book. A book that became a serpent and a little boy. A book that injured her.
It’s been so long since Brie talked to Jas about the trials she endured during those weeks. She thinks Jas will break if she reminds her they’re not in Elora anymore—as if it’s not apparent every waking moment of every day.
“Bring it to me, and we will begin,” the voice in the darkness says.
“That’s it? Just the book?”
“The Grimoricon will have the information I need, but it won’t be enough. I need a catalyst as well. I need the fae power that lives inside you. I need the magic that is lying dormant, the magic that is waiting for your eighteenth birthday. Bring me the book and surrender your power, your fae life, and I will make you a ring that numbs your heart. A ring that gives you death’s kiss.”
I wake in my bed at Castle Craige. The room is dark, but I know from the sliver of light coming from between the curtains that it’s the middle of the day.
I try to roll to my side, and pain lances through me—bringing last night back to me in a rush. The cave, the demon, Misha carrying me out.
And Nigel.
I drag in a ragged breath as a sob breaks free. Nigel is gone.
“You’re awake.” The voice is deep and soft, and so soothing it can only belong to Misha.
I move tenderly as I roll to face him.
He’s sitting at my bedside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I make out his features—the worry twisting his mouth, the exhaustion around his eyes.
“You were in my head,” I say. “How?”
He swallows. “It sometimes happens unintentionally when I form a connection with someone.”
“But from so far away?” How did he know I was in danger? What else does he know?
“Who are you?” His words are so gentle that, at first, I almost don’t understand what he’s asking. There’s a delay before my brain sends the bolt of panic through my blood.
“What?”
He leans farther forward and tilts his head to the side. Flames of rage dance in his eyes. “Who. Are. You.”
I sit up in bed, and my entire body cries out with agony from the movement. I don’t have to pretend to be afraid. I am. Misha may be kind, but he can also be hard and cruel. As king of his court, he has to be.
And while he may never be cruel to Jasalyn, there’s nothing keeping him from exerting the full extent of his wrath on a girl pretending to be her.
“Misha, you’re scaring me.” Because I’m supposed to be Jas and Jas wouldn’t run, I merely curl into myself. My body hurts so much, I couldn’t run if I tried.
I came a breath away from death last night, but Nigel—
Misha pushes out of his chair. “Where’s the princess?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the princess. I am Jasalyn. You know me.”
“Jasalyn would have never entered a dark cave alone. Jasalyn wouldn’t ask my scholars for books on portal magic. She doesn’t need my Hall of Doors.” His fists ball at his sides. “I’ve been such a fool. How many signs were there? From the moment you arrived in my court and looked at me like . . .” He swallows. “I knew something was off, but I let you fool me despite all the warnings along the way—the witch on the coast, Lark’s words about you not being in your true form. I twisted everything I heard into what I wanted. I let myself believe what I wanted to believe when the truth was right in front of me.”
“Look at me. You know me.” Terror racks my bones and makes my voice shake. Terror and something more . . . something like a cracking in the center of my chest.