Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
“Are you ready to do this?” I ask him in a soft voice.
I don’t have to explain what I’m asking about. We’re both thinking of the same thing. “I am committed,” Nemeth says.
“Is that the same thing?”
“Does it matter?” He gives me a wry smile. “It has the same results.”
My heart feels full, achingly so. To think that he’s willing to do this for me, to doom himself (and possibly others) just to save me. I wrap my arms tightly around him and squeeze my inner walls around his cock, wanting to demonstrate everything that I’m feeling. I don’t have words for how much I love him. I’ve never been good with words.
But I can demonstrate a little. At least tonight.
Nemeth wakes me from sleep with a caress to my cheek. “Candra.”
I’m immediately awake, my senses alert. It’s dark, but as I rouse, Nemeth reaches over the bed and taps the light once to turn it on. The shadowy room fills with faint light. “Is it time?”
He nods and slides out of bed, his wings tucked against his back as he gets to his feet. Normally Nemeth would stretch, letting his wings ripple outward as he yawns off the last of his slumber. Today though, he seems just as restless and uneasy as me. I didn’t sleep very well last night, constantly on edge. Worried for the dawn even as I waited for it, and I know Nemeth felt the same.
It’s here now, and there’s no avoiding our fates.
My big, handsome mate offers his hand to me. “Can you sit up? How is your stomach this morning?”
“I think I’m good.” But the moment I lift my head, my stomach rebels and I’m reaching for the chamber pot once more. I throw up everything in my stomach and then lean against the bed weakly. “All better.”
Nemeth watches me with a worried expression. “I do not understand. You had a full dose of your potion last night. Why are you yet sick?”
I wonder how long I can hide a pregnancy from him. If he knew I was pregnant, he’d make me stay here and go out alone. I shake my head, playing it off. “It’s probably just a left-over from my missed doses. It’ll take my body a few days to feel set to rights again.” I get to my feet, ignoring the queasy turn of my now-empty stomach, and turn to my mate. “Shall we dress?”
“Are you sure you can travel?” he asks.
“I’m committed,” I joke back, but he doesn’t laugh with me.
He just sighs and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Let us dress. We should leave before the sun gets too high. I don’t want you getting overheated.”
I nod, wishing for a real kiss, but I probably wouldn’t want to kiss my mouth either. Not after my usual morning. So I rinse my mouth out and braid my hair, then pin it up off my neck. I put on one of the dresses I’ve prepared for travel. It’s a plain, boring deep blue with all the decoration stripped off of it, the sleeves plain. My shoes for the journey don’t match it, as they are a plain, sturdy pair of slippers with reinforced soles (thanks to Nemeth) in a deep black. I shouldn’t care about fashion. It’s just that my skirts were shortened to make walking easier and now everyone will see my hideous footwear.
I tighten the laces on my bodice, and my breasts ache enough that I have to loosen my dress. I smooth a hand down my front—my stomach is still flat, at least. I wonder how long a Fellian carries a child? Will it be too obvious if I ask? I decide yes, it would be too obvious, and slip my enchanted knife into the front of my dress, tucking it between my breasts.
Nemeth is dressed in his favorite kilt, a sword buckled at his waist and our heavy packs slung over his back. “Ready to go?”
Biting my lip, I study our little chamber. “I need to make the bed.” I plump the pillows, then pull the blankets up. “And then I should wash out the chamber pot, and make sure the kitchen is clean—”
“Candra,” Nemeth says in a gentle voice. “Leave it. Anyone that comes here will understand why we had to leave.”
Will they? Or will we be reviled by both Fellian and Liosian peoples for what we’re about to do? We’re not supposed to leave, even if we’re starving. Even if we’re dying. We’re supposed to sacrifice ourselves for the greater good.
Not that I’ve ever wanted to do that. Nobody asked me, either. I’ve been told. Perhaps that’s why I feel so damned guilty that we’re leaving. We don’t know what’s going to happen…we just know that no one will be pleased. I wring my hands, anxious. He’s right. No one’s going to care that we left the tower a mess, only that we left the tower. “Right. Of course.”