Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Ødger, as far as I could tell, had no power over his beast at all.
One second he was talking to me, the next his changed hand, with nails that resembled talons, wrapped around my throat and was holding me up off the ground.
“Jason!” Cirillo cried, and I saw the guards rush to surround him, Keres, and Carice.
I could die here, and that was something I never considered. What could Ødger possibly hope to accomplish with this power play? It made no sense to me.
I closed my eyes and saw…Varic.
Varic smiling at me, laughing with me, holding my hand. The love was a living, breathing energy between us, and it was to be cherished and fought for.
I had to get free. I had to fight. I was the prince’s consort, and I was certainly strong enough to stand at his side.
Taking hold of Ødger’s wrists, I wrenched my body up while at the same time kicking out with my legs. I had no idea if it would work. I certainly wouldn’t have moved Varic, and it was doubtful that Hadrian or Zev would have been knocked off-balance even a bit, but I was betting that whatever was ravaging and rotting the outside of Ødger was probably doing some kind of job on the inside as well.
His hand was forced away from me when he fell back, and because of how long and sharp his nails were, they sliced my neck. It wasn’t deep, it wasn’t life threatening, but it was enough to draw blood.
Ødger moved so fast, using far more speed than I thought him capable of, his hands on my chest driving me down under him to the polished stone floor. He shredded my jacket with his claws, my T-shirt underneath, and then wrenched my neck sideways, baring it, holding my head and chest in a vise of strength.
I couldn’t move, and he opened his mouth to drink.
Every part of me said no. Screamed no. And none of my anger and dread, remorse and pain, the helplessness I felt in that moment was for me. All my wrath was for what could not be allowed to happen.
I was Varic’s font. My blood was for my prince alone.
Never had my barrier been used to defend, only shield. It was not by nature a kinetic ability. My barrier rose and fell at my bidding, yes, but not always. It was far more instinctive than anything else. Most importantly, it was a static field. It was not interactive unless acted upon. It was a defensive tool, not an offensive one.
At that moment it occurred to me that I wasn’t in fear for my life—it was a far greater betrayal. My blood would be taken without my permission, without my desire and love. It was an abomination of all I held dear and that which Varic trusted me with.
It could not stand.
One moment Ødger was looming over me, the next he was thrown halfway across the room, tumbling several times before coming to a stop.
Keres, using her thumb and middle finger, sliced the faces of the two guards holding her so she could join me on the floor. She was helping me sit up as Cirillo easily got the guards off him and Carice, then rushed to my side as well.
“How did you cut them?” I asked Keres.
She looked at me oddly, and it was probably a weird time to be asking her, but she showed me the razor-sharp finger knives I hadn’t even noticed.
Carice screamed as Ødger came running back, hovering somewhere between man and beast, certainly more animal than anything else.
I saw Sorin rush to intercept him, speaking calming words as he ran, thinking, I could only guess, that as Ødger was not yet fully transformed, the man inside would know Sorin and value him as his loyal servant. Already, though, he was too far gone. I knew from experience that once any part of the change had begun, the man was no more. And in that metamorphosed state, the wolf only recognized their mate. The bond had to be that strong, and Sorin did not share that with Ødger, or the sight and scent of my blood would not have forced the transmutation. In the last moment, when Sorin realized his mistake, seeing no slowing in Ødger’s advance, only rage, in that instant he tried to flee, only to have his lord lift his right hand and sever Sorin’s head from his shoulders in a gush of arterial spray.
Carice swooned and fainted, and Cirillo had to scramble to catch her. I was glad she missed the spectacle of people swarming Sorin’s corpse, slurping his blood from the floor, others drinking what was still running from his ruined neck.
Keres pressed her face on my shoulder, as if girding herself for the coming assault as Ødger charged us.