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)
The stark relief in her eyes is enough to cement me as a monster.
Aurelia nods and stands, and I force myself to stay put as the distance between us grows. The blanket is still around her shoulders for protection as much as warmth, but it’s ineffective. The memory of her warm mouth and perfect tits are forever imprinted on my brain.
I blame my distracting thoughts for not seeing her sway.
I’m even more annoyed that Khalil gets there first. He’s already lifting her from the floor where she collapsed by the time I’m even standing.
“Aurelia.” The demanding way he speaks her name belies the gentle touch he places on her cheek. He could never fool me, though. There’s a trace of alarm hidden underneath. He’s concerned.
Our songbird doesn’t respond. She doesn’t make a sound. At first, I think she’s just being stubborn as usual, but it takes me a moment longer to realize she’s limp in his arms.
My stomach sinks when we realize she’s unconscious.
AURELIA
“Cassieeeeeee!”
The mountain’s gale picks up my scream and carries it off where it’s lost forever. Never to be heard.
It’s been five minutes since I heard Cassie calling for me, five long minutes since I chose to leave the safety of the plane to find her. With the blizzard, I have no idea which direction I wandered or if it was even the right one. Cassie’s been alarmingly silent ever since.
Each step forward costs me everything.
The minutes tick by, but the storm goes on.
So do I.
I can’t feel my hands, face, or feet, but I keep going because it’s all I have. The hope is that Tyler and Cassie are alive, and I’m not on this cursed mountain alone.
Harrison’s too-large coat is heavy on my shoulders as it sweeps my ankles. I knew I’d never survive without some protection, so I took my dead bodyguard’s long coat and the axe I found in what was left of the cockpit before I set out to find my assistant.
Sucking in the thin mountain air, I ignore my ravaged throat and call out for her again. “Cassieeeeeeee!”
Only the howling wind answers back.
I don’t know if something happened to my assistant or if I’ve wandered too far. I’m already turning to switch directions when I hear a deep, rumbling sound that would have sent a chill down my spine if I weren’t already in the early stages of hypothermia.
Heart pounding, I take off in the opposite direction, needing to flee whatever new terror made that sound. I rush through the woods and look for a way back to the plane.
All I find is more debris.
Lots of it.
There’s a trail that leads back the way I came—or at least I think it’s the way I came.
I’m clearly lost, so I follow the scattered detritus.
Foolishly, I allow myself to hope that I’ll find my way back until I see something ahead that makes me stop.
Crimson in the snow.
Blood.
An alarming amount.
I spot Cassie’s blue and purple striped scarf lying two feet away from it and suck in a breath.
“Cassie!” I yell again as I rush forward. “Cassie, where are you?” Reaching her scarf, I fall to my knees and slowly lift it from the ground. It hurts to move, but I stuff it inside Harrison’s pocket anyway. Cassie will need it when I find her. This cold is too unbearable, too unrelenting.
“Cassie!” I croak. “Cassie, please answer me!”
Yanked free of my nightmare, the disorientation when I wake feels familiar. The lingering exhaustion that clings to me is reminiscent of my days on tour. Living on the road for months on end is a hard life, even when you’re at the top, flying on private jets and staying in the best hotels.
Thinking of the day that must be ahead of me, I will my eyes open even though I can’t remember what my uncle has booked for me.
A flight?
No, that’s not right.
I’m supposed to be on set today for the first-ever live recording of the talent competition I’m judging—alongside Tania’s crumbing ass. I tell myself just a few more minutes and shift from my back to my side.
The bed I’m in is soft enough and warm, but the sheets are completely unacceptable. The fiber feels rough against my bare legs, as if it has a thread count of two.
I make a mental note to speak to Cassie.
Used to waking up in strange beds, I’m not alarmed in the slightest that the one I’m in isn’t mine. I snuggle a little deeper into the pillow with my eyes still firmly shut.
The scent that greets me, though, keeps me from falling back asleep.
Amber, with a hint of juniper, but the latter doesn’t feel like it belongs. Both scents stir memories that aren’t mine.
Or, at least, they shouldn’t be.
I add it to the growing list of things Cassie will need to fix if she wants to keep her job.