Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Until …
“Still having trouble?” a male asked to her left.
He was tan with a blue-green aura. The aura almost made her trust him. Rely on him. Amond. The healer who had put the glass in her mind back together.
“Sometimes,” she admitted.
She never would have told someone that before. Never admitted weakness. Weakness got a person killed within the House of Shadows. But that was before Fordham and Kerrigan defeated her in battle. Before they refused her a warrior’s death. Before they brought her somewhere to heal. Brought her to him.
At the top of the hill, Dozan Rook smirked at her. Her heart skipped a beat, and the glass disappeared in entirety at the sight of him. She had always favored both males and females. But until she had laid eyes on the King of the Wastes, she had never once favored a human.
He was without a doubt the most beautiful man she had ever seen. By all means, she was not short, and somehow, he still towered over her. He had honey eyes that almost glowed gold in the light and hair burnished through with red. He wore his dark suit with a red vest and the characteristic R pin on his lapel that revealed him for the criminal mastermind behind what had once been the Wastes.
Now, the Wastes were buried under a hundred feet of rubble.
The loch dens? Gone.
The gambling pits? Gone.
The Dragon Ring for fights? Gone.
The only place Wynter had ever felt safe? Gone.
But she had gotten people out. She had gotten Dozan out. And with nowhere else to turn, they had headed to her home.
The place that had always felt like a tomb.
“It’ll come with time,” Dozan said easily.
“The one thing we’re short on.”
Dozan slid his hands into his pockets. The trek had made everyone exhausted and irritable, but Dozan was the same as ever. He hadn’t even broken out into a sweat.
“Then, we should get started.”
She shot him a filthy look and then continued down the hill that led into Cavour, the small relic town on the outskirts of Ravinia Mountain. This morning, she had woken and changed out of her fighting leathers and into the only gown she had available. It wasn’t as magnificent as the ones she had worn inside the mountain, but it was going to have to be good enough.
There could be no doubt that she was the princess, returned to her people.
Despite the circumstances of her return. Despite showing up with a strange amalgamation of humans, half-Fae, and Dozan’s followers, all who had magic that she could hardly explain. Despite everything that had led to her downfall.
The whispers began throughout the village. Wynter held her head high and crossed the field, where she had gone to war for her father. To the door of her homeland.
Fordham was gone.
The throne was empty.
She would not see anyone but an Ollivier on the throne. If she had to behead her father’s last queen to take back what was rightfully hers, she would not hesitate.
The door swung inward, and a diminutive female appeared at the entrance with another behind her. Wynter had no knowledge of who either of them was.
She raised her chin. “I am Princess Wynter Ollivier of the House of Shadows, and I have come to reclaim my throne in my brother’s absence.”
The female exchanged a glance with the other behind her.
“I am Adelaide, chief attendant of King Fordham Ollivier of the House of Shadows,” she said evenly. “This is my daughter, Delle, chief attendant for Draco Mountain. You are not welcome within these walls.”
Wynter’s nostrils flared as her eyes widened. Her hands gripped into fists, and she felt the righteous fury rise up in her, as it always had. “As if you could keep me out,” she hissed as her shadow magic rose to the occasion.
“We do not want a fight,” Delle said, pushing past her mother. She was dressed simply in black silk. She had the build of a warrior. Now that she had crossed into the light, Wynter was sure that she had seen her before. “We simply want the king returned to his throne. Are you here to steal that from him?”
Her magic extinguished. “No.”
The word hurt to admit. She had long been in contention with her brother for her place on the throne, even knowing she was not entirely sane. But she did not want it now. She only wanted what was best for her people and to stop the bastards who had shackled them to this mountain and pushed her brother out.
Delle nodded. “And your retinue?”
Wynter glanced back once to see Dozan had taken a few steps closer to her at the show of strength. His gaze was hard. He’d been ready to defend her. She believed he could, even without magic at his back.
She nodded at him once, and he relaxed infinitesimally.