Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
All he’d wanted was to save his last child. He’d been given an opportunity to do so. He’d escaped, and now…now he was here.
Not all of them were dead.
One still breathed.
Jericho.
I locked down my senses before I could reach out and see what kind of pain he was in. His shaggy head hung as his chest rose in ragged, uneven breaths. Bloodstone pierced his palms, but the final fatal spike was thrust through his throat. Crimson colored the front of his bare chest, his pants, and pooled on the floor below him.
“I promised you they’d pay for what they did.” He didn’t sound or look smug. He didn’t sound proud. “And now the others know what will happen if they disobey me and seek to harm you.”
Bile crept up my throat. “He’s…he’s still alive,” I whispered, staring up at the wolven.
“Only until I am ready to end his life,” he commented, dropping my hand. He strode forward without another look back. Two men opened the large wooden doors to the Great Room, and he entered, stalking toward the center table where several covered dishes waited.
I thought I might be sick.
Kieran’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “They deserved no less.”
Had they?
Even Mr. Tulis, who’d most likely delivered the fatal blow to me.
“Go.” He urged with his hand. Somehow, I got my feet moving as I walked past the bodies pinned to the wall like butterflies.
In a daze, I didn’t realize that I was seated to the right of him at the table, typically a place of honor. Kieran took the chair next to me. Numbly, I sat there as servants unveiled the platters of food while the rest of his entourage followed suit, seating themselves at the table. I recognized Delano and Naill, oddly relieved to see that they were okay. They had defended me, and I didn’t want to think about the reasons behind it.
Laid out before us was a feast. Stewed beef. Roasted duck. Cold meats and cheese. Baked potatoes. All of it smelled wonderful.
But my stomach churned as I sat there, unable to move. Kieran offered me some of the beef, and I must’ve agreed because it ended up on my plate. Then came the duck and potato. He was the one who broke off a hunk of cheese and placed it on my plate as he reached for his glass, seeming to remember that it was one of my weaknesses.
I stared down at my plate. I didn’t see the food. I saw the bodies outside the room as conversation was slow to start but soon picked up and became a steady hum. Glasses and plates clinked. Laughter sounded.
And there were bodies nailed to the walls outside the Great Room.
“Poppy.”
Blinking, I looked up at him. His golden eyes had cooled, but his jaw was hard enough to cut glass.
“Eat,” he ordered in a low voice.
I reached for a fork, picking it up and spearing a piece of meat. I took a bite, chewing slowly. It tasted as good as it smelled, but it settled too heavily in my stomach. I scooped up some of the potatoes.
A few moments passed, and he said, “You don’t agree with what I did to them?”
I looked over at him, unsure of how to even answer the question—if it was even a question at all.
He sat back, glass in hand. “Or are you so shocked, you’re actually speechless?”
Swallowing the last bit of food, I slowly placed the fork on the table. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Can’t imagine you were.” He smirked as he lifted the glass to his lips.
“How…how long will you leave them there?”
“Until I feel like it.”
My chest twisted. “And Jericho?”
“Until I know for sure no one will dare to lift a hand against you again.”
Becoming aware that several of the men around us had stopped talking and were listening, I chose my next words carefully. “I don’t know your people very well, but I would think that they have learned a lesson.”
He took a drink. “What I did disturbs you.”
I knew that wasn’t a question. My gaze shifted back to my plate. Did it disturb me? Yes. I think it would unsettle most. Or at least, I hoped so. The blatancy of the kind of violence he was capable of was shocking if not entirely surprising, further separating him from the guard I knew as Hawke.
“Eat,” he said again, lowering his cup. “I know you need to eat more than that.”
I bit back the urge to tell him I was capable of determining how much food I needed to consume. Instead, I opened my senses to him. The anguish there was different, tasting…tangy and almost bitter. The urge to reach out to him hit hard, causing me to curl one hand in my lap. Had what happened between us caused this? Was it what he’d done to his own supporters? It could possibly be both. I reached for my drink, closing my eyes, and when I reopened them, I found him watching me through thick lashes.