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)
Shae folds his arms. “And the portal?”
“I’m close, but this is important. Hale needs to find out everything he can from Jas so we can figure out how to stop the blood magic. Maybe she knows something about Mordeus that I haven’t learned yet—something that will help us stop him.”
“Fine. I get it. I’ll tell Hale that his girlfriend is a wizard who can resurrect a faerie king.”
His flippancy is a punch to the gut. “You know that’s not what I’m saying.”
“We need that portal, Felicity. Time is running out.” He crosses to me and cocks his head. “Are you even trying?”
“Of course I’m trying. I know where to look—the northern mountains where the hiluca trees grow. I’m going after the ball.”
“Can I trust you? You and the king seemed mighty cozy tonight.” He glances toward the bed and arches a brow. “What would’ve happened if that maid hadn’t come? Do you think you can just pretend to be the princess forever? That you and the king can live happily ever after and he’ll never notice that you aren’t who you say you are?”
“Are you jealous?” I ask, and at the same moment, I realize I don’t want him to be.
“Would it make a difference if I were?”
Three years ago, my blood would’ve hummed at Shae feeling territorial over me. Now the idea is simply exhausting. At some point in the last three years, I let go of whatever it was I felt for Shae. Maybe it was because he never came for me—never offered company when I was forced to run from Elora. Or maybe it’s because after what I’ve begun to feel for Misha, I can see that none of my feelings for Shae ever ran that deep. “I laid my heart out for you, and you walked away. Did you expect me to wait?”
“I walked away because someone needed to save Elora if you were too scared to do it.”
I set my jaw and scowl up at him. “You know why I won’t do it. I won’t be the reason Hale doesn’t survive to see the new Elora.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe that’s what the Chosen One means? Maybe it’s his noble sacrifice that will make this all happen?”
I shake my head violently. “Elora needs Hale. Our queen needs him.”
“Then you better hurry and find that portal.”
I narrow my eyes. “When did you become so cold?”
“Around the same time you chose cowardice over destiny.” He lifts his fist, and I realize too late that he’s holding my collection of the princess’s hair. “They gave you too much time, and it’s given you a false sense of security. Maybe all you need is”—he pulls a tiny swath of hairs from the bundle—“a dozen? That should motivate you to get this done.” He shakes his head and takes away half again of what’s left. “Nah, if you already know where it is, you don’t need more than a few of these, right?”
My stomach knots. “You’re going to get me killed.”
Shae’s eyes flash with anger. “How many people have you gotten killed by refusing your destiny?” He drops the handful of Jasalyn’s hair into the trash can and, with a flick of his fingers, lights it on fire.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jasalyn
DESPITE MY CONCERNS ABOUT SPENDING the night alone in a strange room, I sleep hard and deep, and by the time I wake up, I can hear the others downstairs cleaning up from breakfast.
I slip out of the thin white shift my handmaid gave me after my bath and find fresh linen pants and a matching top waiting on my dresser. Beside them is another one of the vials I recognize as the potion for my elven glamour. I don’t have to look in a mirror to know yesterday’s has already worn off. I’m painfully aware of my scars as I dress, and I avoid the mirror above the dresser until I’ve swallowed the vial’s contents.
When I head downstairs, I struggle to shake my dreary mood. I dreamed of Crissa as she was before they pulled her from my cell, unconscious and limp, but in this dream, she lay on a pile of white linens, and I wasn’t myself. I was someone else, watching with satisfaction as she struggled to pull in breath.
A fae male stood beside me, sneering down at her. His eyes were a mossy green, his dark hair was shaved on the sides, exposing two white slashes of scars above his left ear. The length on top was pulled into a tight braid that began at the crown of his head and fell to the middle of his back. “And you’re sure she’s the best vessel?”
“There is no other.” I nodded toward the body at his feet, my body, curled unconscious, chestnut hair in tangled knots around my head. “The oracle speaks the truth. I see the power within her.”