Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Okay, so maybe this was why Billy had written this song. I got it now. The immediate gratification and feedback were addictive.
But was it so different from why I wrote books? To bring together people, make them forget about their troubles, and let them escape into something beautiful, if only for a minute?
The song itself was just over five minutes long, but it felt like it all passed in the blink of an eye. As I played the last few notes, I briefly considered slipping into some “Sweet Caroline,” but I doubted I’d get the same response out of these people as it would most Americans. Besides, distraction achieved, I hoped.
Jumping up from my seat, I twisted to find all the men who’d been harassing Nylian were watching me, and Nylian’s seat was now empty. The elf had escaped!
I snagged the bottle of wine and held it over my head in triumph, basking for a heartbeat in the thunderous applause and demands for another song. But there would be no encore. If Nylian was smart, he’d be making a break for it right now and I couldn’t let the elf ditch me.
“Thanks so much!” I shouted above the roar while running for what appeared to be a back door out of the place.
My steps came to a sharp halt as I plunged into the darkness behind the inn. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust my eyes to the thin light coming from the moon and some of the surrounding buildings. Now what? Circle to the front of the building and sneak up the stairs to our rooms? Was there a chance Nylian was still in his room, grabbing his shit?
Nah, the elf had to be faster than that.
But my cloak and sword were in my room. Two things I couldn’t afford to leave behind, even if I didn’t know how to swing a sword. The growing chill of the night was nipping through my clothes, proving that my cloak was going to be sorely missed if I tried to chase after Nylian without it. However, every delay meant Nylian was putting more and more distance between us.
“Psssttt…”
A harsh hiss had me jumping and twisting about, half expecting to see a giant python behind me. What I got was still enough to stop my heart. Nylian peered out of the shadows at me, frantically waving me toward the stables. The elf had waited!
I barely held in a triumphant shout as I ran across the yard to the stables that were dimly lit with an old oil lantern.
As I reached Nylian’s side, he shoved the reins into my hand of a chestnut-brown horse I’d not seen before. “Get on,” my friend ordered.
“Where did you—”
“He belongs to the man who picked a fight,” Nylian interrupted.
“But my stuff.”
“Tied it to the horse. Now get on, or I’m leaving you behind.”
Yep, no more time to argue. The distraction I’d provided was dwindling with each passing second. Those men were likely to search for Nylian soon, and it was better if we were away from here as quickly as possible.
With no help, I hauled my ass into the saddle, silently thanking what fates may be that I’d been shunted into a body with some pretty awesome muscles. I tried to remind Nylian of my pathetic riding skills, but it wasn’t necessary. He’d already tied my horse to his. All I needed to do was hang on.
We burst out of the stable and down the street while I desperately clung to the saddle horn and squeezed the horse with my thighs. The fresh horse didn’t seem to mind. It raced after Nylian as though he knew what he was doing. A few shouts followed us out of town, but I didn’t dare risk looking over my shoulder. I was too likely to fall off the horse and break my neck.
As we passed the last building on main street, the cold wind whipping my hair and biting at my face, my brain finally conjured up the reason Misty Pass sounded so familiar to me.
In Betrayal of the Elf Prince, Nylian had stopped for the night in the town. He’d even stayed the night at that inn, where he’d run into trouble with eight oversized, angry humans. And despite his best efforts, the elf had gotten his ass kicked.
Yay, I saved him from getting beaten to a pulp.
However, that ass-kicking had led to him being nursed back to health by a gorgeous young woman by the name of Mercy. She’d hidden Nylian from her father and when the elf was on his feet, that strong, courageous, compassionate woman had agreed to join Nylian on his quest, eventually becoming the first consort in his harem.
Now he would never meet Mercy.
He would never fall in love with her.
“Shit!” I hissed.