Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
I am screwed. I sat on the couch in the home I’d purchased for Jeni and closed my eyes. I could still smell Jeni’s scent in the air—a mixture of light, hope, and despair.
I let my mind drift, as I often did when I wanted to go to my people and draw from their power. Sometimes, the elders offered advice, which I fucking ignored. It had been their lack of foresight that caused our demise. They should’ve seen the attack coming. My mother and I barely escaped, though she succumbed to her wounds soon after, leaving me to shoulder our people’s legacy.
Not a very good choice.
Because Jeni had been right. I’d waited too long to fulfill my promise to revive the Bastuli. I’d occupied my years with trivial idiocies such as warring for kings—like Richard the Lionheart—seducing women, and killing, killing, and more killing. I’d hunted down new powers and amassed a wealth of knowledge and abilities, too.
Then one day I woke up, only to realize there was nothing good left inside me. I had killed too many men. I had given up too many pieces of my soul in exchange for power.
That was when I sought out Sage. She used her potions to put me to sleep and then attempted to drain the darkness from me one slice at a time. Didn’t work. After that, I stayed locked away in her dungeon for years, being beaten, burned, and cut as she experimented with different methods. I went mad from it all. And yet, I’d been happy. I couldn’t hear my dark thoughts nor feel the disappointment of my elders. I couldn’t remember who I was.
Then one day, fucking King came along. Sage offered me in a trade for some bullshit inking spells. King took one look at me, so weak and crazy but with the soul of a killer, and thought I’d be a good asset. An object he could use.
Idiot. I would never be owned by anyone. When I finally healed and came around, I paid the bastard my dues and joined Ten Club. Members could not own other members.
Over time, I grew more familiar with the club and came to realize it needed to die, just like the leader. The Bastuli would never rise again if they were hunted like objects for members’ arsenals.
All water under the bridge now, because we were never coming back.
“Mother,” I said, calling out to her, “it’s time for me to move on. For you to move on, too.”
“No. You are not giving up, Ansin.”
I opened my eyes and found Mother sitting under her favorite olive tree, the sun high in the sky. She wore her long black hair in a braid down her back. Her clothes were always the same—a burlap sack for the most part. Sometimes when I found her, she was picking grapes. Other times, hunting for healing herbs. Occasionally, I’d find her seated around a fire with my people as they told tales from the past.
“I cannot do this anymore,” I said.
Her dark eyes glimmered with affection. “Of course you can. Do not give up now.”
Like the rest of my people, who had been gone for two thousand years, she had no concept of time. I supposed when you were dead, living in a dream world, time didn’t mean much. But out here, in this world, time was real, and mine was up.
“I am accepting reality. The battle is over, and I am tired. I wish to die.” Not because I was suicidal, but because I had lived for so long. I had done it all, seen it all, lost it all, found it all, and experienced everything life had to offer except for love. Love of a woman and love for children.
“Ansin, this is far from over, but the end is also near,” she said, staring with a consoling smile.
“Jeni is moving on. She is safe. That is all I need to know.”
“You fool. Jeni is who you must face. She has all the answers in her hands now, and she is coming for you.”
My stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”
“You gave her that book.”
“I read it first. There was nothing there except a few drab sermons on practicing one’s Seer skills.”
The knowing gaze in my mother’s dark eyes told me I was wrong.
My rage fomented. King had told me about the book. “What was inside that I missed?”
Mother replied, “Everything.”
That SOB… I laughed bitterly. King had gotten the last laugh after all, hadn’t he? He wanted Jeni to find out the truth.
“I bet King wants her to kill me,” I said.
“And now you will have to face it alone, my king. This is the only chance you will get to stop Jeni from joining the Seers. You must end her. The elders agree.”
Fuck. This was what I had been trying to avoid all along. Jeni joining the Seers. Which she would. And if she knew Draco was still alive—that I’d lied about everything—she would not hesitate to draw the life from me. She wouldn’t care that all this had been her choice. She had seen the future with her own eyes.