Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
The animals were circling each of the shadowkin in separate spots, she soon realized. The four humanoids hadn’t stuck together on fleeing—they’d split as they sought a route of escape. Why they hadn’t vanished through shadows and couldn’t seem to leave the clan’s territory, she had no idea.
The hellhorses expertly descended on the shadowkin and savaged them—biting, stomping, breathing fire, exhaling noxious smoke—in what seemed like a rehearsed fashion . . . as if they’d done it a thousand times before. And for Larkin, there was no denying that she’d been right in what she’d concluded mere minutes ago.
She circled back, leaving the clan to their ‘fun’. She didn’t leave the territory, though. Didn’t even consider it. No, she and Teague had some talking to do.
Would he want to talk? Likely not. At least not in regard to the subject matter she had in mind. But she wouldn’t be blown off this time.
She landed at the camp and changed back to her true form. Absently plucking at her tee, she drank in her surroundings, taking in everything from the wagons and the firepit to the hammocks and the small barn.
She’d expected to find cabins sprawled around the property; that each of the clan would want their own space as opposed to living close together like a herd. She really wouldn’t have guessed that Teague lived in an old traveler’s wagon.
But then, she also wouldn’t have guessed that he . . . God, this whole thing was surreal.
Perching her butt on a log near the pit, she rested her elbows on her jeans-clad thighs and rubbed at her face. So many times she’d pondered what Teague could be so determined to keep hidden. She’d explored endless possibilities; considered countless scenarios. But none came close to the actual truth of the matter.
Did she now understand why he guarded his secrets so closely? Yes. Absolutely.
Did she now understand why he hadn’t even hinted at those secrets despite that she’d parted with some of her own? Yes. Yes, though it nonetheless stung, she did get it.
Her inner demon, on the other hand, wasn’t so understanding. It had never liked that secrets stood between them and the hellhorse like a stone wall, and it felt entitled to know his private business. Which was totally unfair, but hey, that was how the demon rolled regarding Teague. It didn’t respect his boundaries because it didn’t want him to have boundaries when it came to her or the entity.
The demon wasn’t unnerved by what they’d learned about him. Nope. Now that the shock had worn off, the entity was simply somewhat miffed that it was only learning of this now.
Muffled voices and laughs drifted through the air.
Larkin slowly straightened and casually splayed her hands on her thighs as she waited. What happened next probably wouldn’t go well. The clan as a whole was not going to like that she was no longer in the dark.
Not that she worried they’d hurt her. Well, they were welcome to try. They’d die in the doing of it, though.
The ravens appeared first. Spotting her, they let out cautioning calls. The distant laughing cut off. The talking stopped. The footfalls hastened.
Larkin didn’t move from the log. She instead watched as the ravens settled on nearby branches, purposely surrounding her.
Soon, seven naked males prowled into the camp with panting but highly alert dogs walking among them. Quiet curses were spat and wary looks were exchanged as the hellhorses spotted her. They couldn’t yet know how much she’d seen, but they’d certainly be apprehensive all the same.
Larkin only really had eyes for the man in the center of the group. Teague’s own eyes were pinned on her. They were somber, dark, unreadable.
She’d rarely seen Teague without a half-smile on his face. Generally, he was all emotion. Now, he appeared closed off and devoid of feeling.
He looked at her as though she were a stranger. As if they stood on the opposite sides of some metaphorical fence. He made her feel shut out with his gaze alone.
Teague had made her feel many things over the years, but never shut out. Not even when he danced around her questions or diverted their lines of conversation—that had always been done in a playful manner.
There was nothing playful about him right now.
Her demon hissed, annoyed. It wanted to kiss him so hard his lips would bleed and he’d cease looking at Larkin that way. Not a bad idea.
Coming to a stop in front of her, he stared down at her. “How long have you been here?” His voice didn’t have its usual breezy tone. It was completely flat.
Larkin lifted her chin. “Long enough. You were never going to tell me, were you?”
Teague’s face remained carefully blank. “Tell you, what?”
She ran her gaze along the seven males. “That you were all once members of the Wild Hunt.”