Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“O-kay,” he said softly.
He climbed up the steep slope amid the thin tree branches that scratched at him. He paused at the lip, and a huge swell of magic rolled over him. Get ready.
More shouts and yelling caught his ears. He took a deep breath. And then another. Showtime.
You expect nothing. I expect nothing. We expect everything.
For some reason, those words kept repeating themselves in his mind as he climbed onto a sort of outcropping that peeked through a couple of trees and overlooked the meadow beyond. He was plenty far away to be useful without being in the action. Jessie had posted him where he’d feel comfortable. Where all mages tended to feel comfortable—in the cowardly cheap seats.
One day, he’d get closer. He’d move into the action. His spells would be more powerful up close. He’d be able to improvise more readily.
He needed to learn to improvise.
For now, though, he’d do what he was best at.
He saw the enemy immediately—large men all, strutting through the gaps in the trees and directly into his line of sight. There must be well over fifty of them, a huge force to accompany mages of that caliber. They carried weapons and wore nondescript magical armor. They walked like machines, all in sync, large shoulders swaying and with obvious confidence.
Behind them, slinking through the trees like phantoms, the mages wore black robes and little black hats. That denoted them as Momar’s. Not his employees, not his highbred staff, but his.
They clutched something in their hands, but he couldn’t see what from the distance. Vials, probably. Or bottles. Potions. They’d come ready too.
The ground crew stopped in neat rows, waiting for their enemy to step up.
“We’ve come for the woman,” one at the front shouted. “Bring her out, and we’ll kill you quickly. Make us come and get her, and we’ll draw out the pain.”
One of them spotted Sebastian, standing a little hunched on the hill. More caught sight of him until the leader was peering in his direction. He puffed his chest up, probably filling it with air to make his demand again, but suddenly, all eyes snapped to a focal point in front of them. A shiver worked through the crowd—Sebastian could visibly see their bodies roll with it. Backs snapped a little straighter. Shoulders tensed.
Austin Steele had stepped into the meadow. His movements were sleeker, more graceful than theirs had been. His shoulders were broader, his body not trained for violence but biologically built for it. They had learned to be predators. He’d been born one.
The leader spoke again. “Bring the woman forward.”
Even from that distance, Sebastian could feel the rage pouring off Austin. Or maybe Sebastian just knew it was happening.
“Say please,” Austin growled.
The leader stared Austin down, and then the magical light show that was Jessie rose from the trees to the right. Her wings flapped, and she flew over the center of the meadow. Magic pumped into the air around her, visible in its effulgence. It swept along the ground and ran through the trees. It rose like a tidal wave, and then it was encompassing Sebastian, fanning that fire she’d ignited within him—the one that had made him realize he didn’t need Graves at all. He was ready to fight for her. Fight by her side. He was ready to give everything to this family, just as she would.
“Showtime,” he said out loud.
He dug in his drawers for that bottle of potion. Working the spell with one hand, he yanked out the cork with his teeth, pushing aside the thought of how utterly gross that was. He flung the bottle into the air and then caught it with the spell before hurtling it higher.
Magic continued to swell from Jessie as she looked down on the enemy. Her wings pumped at the sky.
Once again, the gargoyle’s connection was offered to Sebastian. It throbbed in his middle, asking him to join her. To become one with her. Only this time, it didn’t feel like it was only her gargoyle that did the asking. This time, there were traces of Jessie woven through the magic. Soft and delicate and fiercely loyal, trustworthy—all of it mixed with the gargoyle’s hard, fierce magic. She was doing as the basandere had said. She was choosing to let her gargoyle side truly meld with her.
Sebastian felt his courage rise. If she could face her fears, then he would do everything in his power to support her—and to accomplish the same.
He blasted the potion with the unlocking spell. This was the risky part. If the mages fired before the dome was established, it might not fit into place.
He needn’t have worried, though. Jessie spread out her hands, and her wings pumped faster. Those below her stared up with wide, unblinking eyes—unmoving, in awe. Then she roared. It was deep and brutal and unmistakably a challenge.