Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Afterward, we all collapse into a tangled heap, where we stay for half an hour.
Thorin recovers from his doze first, rising from the bed and leaving the room. I hear water running in the tub moments later, and he returns after a few minutes. “The bath is ready.”
Nodding, I stretch and rise before carefully lifting Aurelia from the bed, as if she’s fragile despite what we just put our queen through. I carry her out of the room and into the bathroom with Thorin on my heels. Khalil joins us once he’s done changing the sheets, and it's cramped inside the small bathroom, but none of us seem to mind. Once we’re all clean, the four of us return to his bed.
Khalil wraps Aurelia's gingham headband around her hair to protect her curls, while Thorin gives Aurelia aspirin since she’ll no doubt be sore in the morning. He then makes her drink an entire glass of water and asks twenty-one questions about how she’s feeling before finally letting her lie down.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember whispering how much I loved her before she fell asleep in my arms.
AURELIA
Today is graduation day.
Thorin has taught me to shoot and hunt almost daily for the last two months, and my aim has improved immensely. But after Seth said none of it’s useful if I don’t kill anything, I bet them all I could catch and kill our dinner tonight.
Of course, they hadn’t gone for it.
The death squad. I’m too recognizable. They can’t risk me being seen. Blah, blah, blah.
When I asked if this was how the rest of my life was expected to go—hiding in this cabin with the three of them as my only source of human contact—an uncomfortable silence followed, which is how I found myself sneaking out of the cabin an hour before dawn.
I made sure to sleep in my loft last night under the guise of being too pissed with them to sleep in one of their beds. It’s easier than trying to crawl from under them since my mountain men turned out to be as overbearing in their sleep as they are when awake.
The lingering cold from winter is nothing more than a comforting breeze in the early spring morning. The warmer season has taken over most of the Cold Peaks, but there are still many places where the sun doesn’t reach, so the snow lingers on top of exposed rocks and precarious slopes. The guys warned that the risk of avalanches is even higher now, but I’m pretty sure it was another excuse to keep me inside. Still, after what happened to Tyler, I’ll be the first to admit that I get a little jumpy at the slightest sound of snow shifting and falling from the branches above me.
I keep going, focusing on the grass, flowers, and bees as I cross the clearing with my pack, compound bow, and the hunting knife Khalil gave me. When I reach the tree line, and my mountain men don’t come bursting out of the front door to drag me back inside, I slip the uncomfortable wolf mask over my face and start into the wilds.
I’m nearing the first hunting spot—a maze of blowdowns just before sunrise, and I can’t believe my luck when I spot a buck lying down with its back against the largest tree that has been knocked down.
The buck’s head is down, its nose tucked under its hind legs as it sleeps.
The bow is a close-range weapon, so I have to get really fucking close.
Thankfully, it rained last night, so the ground is soft, muting my steps as I approach from downwind. When I’m about a hundred feet away, I slowly draw an arrow from my pack and place it on the shelf before nocking it on the string. I don’t fumble with it as much as I had in the beginning, which is a damn good thing because deers—which I learned the hard way—can hear really fucking well.
I don’t have time to overthink my aim, knowing it won’t be long before my arms and shoulders tremble under the weight of the bow and the tension in the string. Khalil’s been helping me with that, too, coaching me through some strengthening exercises. For now, I tell myself that my aim is true when I pull back on the bow and peer through the peephole that acts as a sight.
The moment I whistle, the old Aurelia tries to make a comeback, and I hear her screaming at me to leave the deer alone. No, don’t! Look how cute! It’s just a helpless animal!
Shut up.
Exhaling nice and slow, I release the arrow once the startled deer lifts its head, and I watch it sail through the sparse trees and pierce the buck broadside.
It’s a swift kill.