Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Micah,” she croaked.
An electric charge sliced through the atmosphere. A patch of air parted down the middle, the sides rolling in opposite directions, propelled by the leafy vines now growing between them.
A crack formed first, and Cookie appeared in the newly opened space, saving him from issuing a response. The crack spread.
“Incoming,” the queen said, exuding all kinds of worry as she rushed into the oasis.
Micah braced. Too late to go. The next thing he knew, a scowling Kaysar stalked through the doorway. The oracle, Amber, as well as Pearl Jean and King Jareth, followed on his heels. A quick scan revealed the newcomers sported multiple weapons. The entire group appeared unaware or uncaring of Micah’s presence, the bulk of their attention centered on Viori.
Her breathing shallowed, her wide eyes reminding him of two open wounds as she peered at her brother. Pupils blown. A deeper well of tears. Chin quivering, she placed the doll—Drendall—on her feet.
“Chucky!” Cookie shouted, jumping when the porcelain girl clung to Viori’s calf.
Kaysar halted mere inches from Micah’s wife. The king wore a black tunic and leathers, paired with his signature metal claws as the rest of the crowd formed a half circle behind him. Everyone inspected Viori from head to toe, but no one did so more intently than the king.
Brother and sister looked nothing alike. The big dark brute and the tiny flame. They stared at each other for several long minutes, steeped in terse silence. But no words were needed. In that moment, Micah glimpsed the inevitable. The truth of his suspicions. Hope radiated from Viori while Kaysar projected a combination of agony and affection. The array of emotions birthed burgeoning need, filling the space between siblings.
“My little love.” With an agonized groan, Kaysar threw his arms around the girl, yanking her into the hard line of his body.
A sob left her. She sagged against him, returning his embrace and clutching him close.
The pain in Micah’s chest magnified. No, this female would never put her husband first.
If he’d hated Kaysar before, he truly despised the male now. The king often killed without mercy, living by no rules but his, yet he was allowed to build a loving family? Him, but not Micah the chimera?
“You are all right, sister?” Kaysar demanded, pulling back far enough to search her face.
Red-rimmed eyes glittered with more tears. “I am.”
Pearl Jean clutched the necklace strung around her throat. “I feel a case of vapors coming on. Where’s my fainting couch? I want my fainting couch!”
“Do I really need to be here for this?” Jareth scratched his chin. His pale hair stuck out in spikes, and lines of fatigue rimmed his eyes. He was shirtless and heavily tattooed. Unbuttoned leathers sagged on a lean waist. No shoes adorned his feet. “I do have a kingdom to run, you know.”
The oracle held up a picnic basket. “Should I set up refreshments now or after the fight?”
Kaysar kept his focus on Viori. “You spoke to me. You spoke!” He hugged her again, laughing and crying simultaneously, so joyous Micah almost looked away. He did take another step back, needing more distance between the pair. But Kaysar’s triumph didn’t last long.
The king peered at Viori with narrowing eyelids, fury overtaking his features once more. “What happened when I left you in the forest? Tell me everything. If anyone harmed you, I will have their names. And their heads! I’ll place their organs at your feet. Whoever they are, they’ll know suffering in its purest form, I swear it!”
“You don’t hate me?” she asked softly. “I destroyed your life. I killed Momma and—”
“I could never hate you, love.” A myriad of emotions crossed his face. Exasperation. Fondness. Anguish. He yanked her closer, enfolding her inside his strong arms. “You aren’t the only one to kill while learning to use a powerful glamara.”
An example of unconditional love. The first Micah had ever beheld in person. Not something he’d ever experienced on his own.
Suddenly, he couldn’t hate Kaysar quite so much. Even as envy joined his deluge of emotions, choking him. He shouldn’t be here for this. This was a moment between brother and sister.
“You suffered because of me,” Viori said, sniffling. “I heard the rumors. You were imprisoned for a year and tortured daily. Because of me,” she repeated, her chin trembling.
“No, love.” Kaysar gently collected one of her tears with the tip of a claw. “I suffered because bad fae exist in this realm. Bad fae do bad things. It had nothing to do with you. Now. In a few minutes, I wish to hear what happened to you during our centuries apart. And I will have those names straightaway. First I must deal with another emergency.”
He craned his head toward Micah, his eyelids slitting once again. “You.” Kaysar flittered directly in front of him. “You wed my sister without my permission, thinking to use her against me.”