Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“That could be anyone,” Caz mutters. “Do you know how many people curse the land of Vakeeli everyday? How many people hate it here?”
Korah presses her lips.
“Whoever this is, they’re not a simple commoner,” Hassha says. “They’re someone with connections, allies. They know the truth about you, Caspian, and they don’t want you winning.”
“So it’s someone who leads others?” His eyes grow wide with revelation. “A monarch.”
Everyone stares at Caz, stunned.
“Do you think it’s Devlin?” Rowan questions. “Because I swear if it’s him, I’ll punch his fucking teeth out and shove them down his throat.”
“No,” Caz rasps, staring distantly. “Devlin is too arrogant. Too proud. He’d have slipped up by now, plus he’s not here. He’s in Whisper Grove.”
“You don’t think it’s Alora, do you?” I ask.
Juniper sits up in her seat again. “She sent Valden here. He was within the territory,” she declares, stealing my attention. “She’d need allies. You said she and Valden were feuding, right? What if she agreed to bring his tribe back to Vanora if he got closer to us?”
“No,” I say. “No, Alora wouldn’t do that.”
Caz glances at me. “‘At the end of it all, we must do whatever it takes to protect our territories. Even if that means losing ourselves a little.’” His eyes fall as his face pales. “She revealed her truth right to my face, and I ignored it.”
Without another word, Caz storms out of the office, leaving everyone else to sink beneath the weight of his words.
SEVENTY-ONE
CAZ
I march to Kessel’s campsite as half the sun sits on the horizon. Rowan trails me with his gun locked in hand. Cerberus strides from the forest, panting raggedly as he meets at my side.
I trudge around huddles of women and children as the scent of roasted meat wafts through the air. It isn’t until I’ve approached the tent Valden is being kept in that I stop.
Milandra stands before the tent, her large hand clutched around the handle of a spear.
“Where is he?” I ask her.
She cocks her head. “Inside. Korah has muted his energy.”
“Good.” I remove my gun from the holster. “You might want to send the children off the campsite for now.”
Milandra’s hard eyes lock on mine with intention before she offers a stiff nod and walks away.
“Cerberus, come.” Rowan reaches for my wolf, giving his head a pat. Obeying, Cerberus sits next to him as he stands guard outside the tent.
I push one of the flaps back to find Valden seated cross-legged on the ground. His eyes are closed, and his helmet is in his lap. His hair is deep brown waves that touch his shoulders. His breastplate is gone, replaced by an ivory tunic.
He cracks one eye open to find his visitor then closes it again.
“If you don’t mind, I’m taking a moment to reflect,” he says.
“Reflect?” I march toward him, lifting the butt of my gun and slamming it into the side of his head.
He grunts as he slumps over, and while he’s down, I place my feet on either side of his body and grip him by his thick head of hair. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Valden growls, blood dripping from his temple.
“No?” I whack his face with the gun again. He yowls. Blood streams from his nose before he can throw his hands up to clutch his face. “With little energy, you’re weak and I can kill you right fucking now. Tell me why you’re here! Why did Alora send you?”
“Is this how you get things done?” He spits a glob of blood past me. “Violence? That, my friend, is a sign of weakness.”
Pissed, I reel my elbow back and hit him again. When I let go of his hair, he collapses on his back with a weak chuckle.
“All I wanted was to see The Regals for myself. My father told stories about them…and my grandfather. They were right about them too. They are magnificent.”
I aim the barrel at his right thigh and shoot, piercing through his leg armor. He hollers this time, and that stupid smile of his disappears.
Footsteps sound behind me, and Hassha storms into the tent. She’s not alone. Alora’s arm is gripped tightly in her hand.
“Caspian?” Alora gasps, looking from me to her cousin lying bloodied on the ground. “What’s happened? Why are you hurting him?”
“Sit,” Hassha commands when she releases Alora’s arm.
Panicked, Alora rushes to one of the cots in the corner, sits, then looks between us. “Please explain what’s going on!”
“Have you searched her mind for answers?” I ask Hassha.
“I’ve searched what she’ll allow me to see, but her mind is strong,” Hassha says. “I can get in deeper, but it will not be pleasant, and it will weaken her.”
“I don’t care,” I growl, staring into Alora’s eyes.
“Caspian, are you insane? Why does she need to dig into my mind? I am on your side.”