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)
I truly expect him to disappear. For those eyes to just wink out and vanish and to leave me alone with my bath.
Instead, the Fellian’s gaze hardens, his eyes gleaming bright, and he takes a step forward. Then another.
And he comes fully into the flickering light of my candle.
I swallow hard at the sight of him.
I’ve never seen a Fellian for myself. I know their kingdom exists on the edges of ours, and that there was once a thriving trade agreement back in the days when the Vestalin line was upon the throne. I’ve heard that the kingdom of Darkfell is mostly underground, inside hollow mountains and winding caves. I’ve also heard that they are devils, so hideous and unholy to look upon that they avoid the Absent God’s light. I always thought those were foolish rumors, but as the stranger steps forward, I realize that not all of the stories told are lies.
He does look like a monster.
The green eyes glittering in his face are the only hint of color, and even those are almost drowned by the black sclera that surround them. The Fellian seems to be made entirely of grays and blacks. His skin is nothing but deep gray muscle, and his features are not entirely human. His oversized hands are tipped with thick, deadly claws and his feet are bare, tipped with the same claws and formed awkwardly, a bit like an eagle’s. His knees bend backward, his thighs heavy and obscured by the leather kilt at his hips—the only piece of clothing he wears. He crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at me, and his upper body is far more massive than any human knight’s.
Not even his face is truly human. His features are hard planes, his nose large and prominent and jutting down from his heavy brow like a blade. His jaw is heavy, too, his mouth wide. If he was a sculpture, I’d say he’d been carved with a heavy, angry hand and instead of using soft marble, he went for unforgiving granite.
There’s no hair upon his head, either. Instead, rising from his scalp where his hair should be, dozens of curving horns arch back, like a mane blowing back from his face into an unseen wind. Something ripples behind him, heavy and dark, and the sound of fabric rustles again…except I realize now that it’s not fabric at all.
He’s not human. Not even close.
“Behold,” he says flatly. “Your enemy.”
“Are those wings?” I ask, leaning over the edge of the tub and my breasts plumping against the metal side. Here I thought he’d had a cloak and all this time he had strange, leathery-looking wings. “Are you part bat?”
The snarl he directs my way is utterly scathing. “Why would I be a bat?”
“You have leathery wings and you live in a cave. “Shouldn’t that make you a bat?” I taunt.
He focuses his angry gaze at me. “You live in the sunlight and walk on the ground. Does that make you a pig?”
My jaw drops. I splash at him, indignant, but he simply steps aside. “That was insufferably rude.”
“Don’t ask stupid questions and you won’t get rude answers.”
I’m no longer having fun with this. Glaring at him, I sink back into the bath again. “Go away so I can finish my bath in peace.”
“I heard you talking to your lover.”
I don’t look in his direction. Instead, I just shrug. “So what if you did? It’s not against the rules. He’s not entering the tower and I don’t seem to be leaving it,” I say, my tone bitter. If Balon were braver, maybe I’d be taking a bath in an inn somewhere on land instead of a cold half-bath in a dark kitchen. The thought is a depressing one. Balon is a sweet man, but he’s still young and not nearly foolish enough to suit my needs. If he were more impulsive, he’d have already broken me out and damned the consequences. Instead, he shows up to tell me about his horses and how his latest hunting trip went.
I’m just a different sort of entertainment for him, I realize. The thought is a depressing one. When Balon gets bored of coming to visit me, he’ll just disappear…and I’ll still be here. Waiting.
“I won’t let you escape,” the Fellian says. “Not until the Golden Moon is gone once more.”
“Or until your people fall in the war,” I say brightly. “Which I shall hope and pray for every day.” I give him a tight smile. “You did know there was a war coming to your doorstep, yes? By now King Lionel and his knights have probably conquered your mountain…or whatever grimy little cave you’ve crawled out of.”
He huffs, and I realize he’s amused. “If he told you they’re winning the war, he’s lying to you.”