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)
An ember sparked in his chest, his glamaras battling each other more intently than ever before. That heat intensified, spilling through the rest of him. Organs sizzled. Muscles seemed to turn to stone and bone to steel. The instinct to protect sharpened, reaching the core of his being. Then. That moment.
The glamaras stopped working against each other and clicked, working together. Power flooded him. Wave after wave of it.
Kill!
Norok had become a beast—and Micah could control beasts. For once, he had no reason to prove himself stronger first. He simply was, his two glamaras in total agreement.
The other male offered a sad smile. “Now you’ll know the pain of losing the one you love and adore most. You, who praise loyalty, have betrayed me in the worst way.”
“No. This has nothing to do with Warren.” His voice had deepened, power an undercurrent in every word. A tone far more brutal than any he’d ever used before. Maybe Norok heard him as he’d heard Viori’s song, maybe he didn’t. But he could read Micah’s lips—and sense his intentions. The change in the very fabric of his very being. “You worked against me long before his death.”
“The trolls were my contingency plan, same as they were yours. I learned from the best, after all.” Norok lifted the blade with both hands wrapped around the hilt. A swift up and swifter down.
“Stop!” Micah bellowed, and the warrior froze abruptly, the blade halted an inch above Viori’s heart.
Norok blinked at him, his jaw slack. Everyone surrounding the dome had frozen as well, not one person daring to move. Perhaps they couldn’t move, Micah’s command too powerful to ignore.
“Lift the dagger. Now.” No bellowing this time. He spoke only to Norok, allowing a stronger dose of power to saturate the command.
The warrior’s hands shook as he fought the compulsion. A vein bulged in the center of his forehead. Sweat trickled from his temple. The dagger began to lift, more and more space between the tip and Viori’s chest.
Outside, Kaysar freed himself from the compulsion, a beast of equal strength. He rolled his shoulders, picked up two swords and twirled the hilts in his grip, smiling with relish. “Let the troll massacre begin.” He shot into motion, decapitating his foes with much glee.
“Stab yourself,” Micah told Norok, prowling closer. “Stab yourself everywhere you can reach, and do not stop until you cannot move.”
Norok sucked in a breath. “Micah,” he rasped. His hands shook, his biceps flexing. “Don’t do this. Please.”
“You know as well as I that I only control monsters. If you have any integrity left, use it. Resist my commands. If not... Do it. Stab yourself. Go on.”
The male’s hands shook with more force. He was panting with increasing intensity. Finally, with a shout of defeat, he swung his arms, stabbing himself in the stomach. A pause filled with a grunt of pain and gurgles of blood. Then he yanked out the dagger and stabbed himself again, in the leg. Then the groin. The shoulder. The chest. The throat. The face. He stabbed his body until he died, expelling his last breath with a shocked, watery gaze locked on Micah.
Picking up Elena’s fallen sword, Micah removed Norok’s head, ending the threat of him forever. The heat in him cooled. His limbs shook. He dropped the weapon and sank to his knees, checking Viori’s vitals. Her pulse beat steadily, and relief inundated him.
“She lives,” he called as Graves and John rushed inside the dome. Nothing else mattered. “Wake up, Red.” He gently caressed her chin. “Wake up for your husband.”
But she didn’t. Her eyes remained shut, her body lax. She slept again, but for how long? Did it matter? He would wait as long as necessary.
“I love you, too,” he told her, kissing her temple. “I want you to know that. I’m going to build you the palace of your dreams, one with high-enough walls for our children. When you wake, we will have our life together.”
The cats raced in, their sand-fur soaked with blood. Kaysar and Cookie followed on their heels, the entire group settling around Micah and his wife.
“She merely sleeps,” Micah assured them all. Elena, however, was gone, and his heart broke over her loss. His oldest friend—he just hadn’t known it until too late. Now, he was to be parted from his dearest friend. The mate he adored with every fiber of his being. But for how long?
CHAPTER THIRTY
VIORI DRIFTED ON a sea of dreams...
The doorway she’d inadvertently opened had closed without taking anyone to the mortal world. Micah held her as Graves, John and all their new children constructed a new stone bed for her, inside the dome, near where she’d first fallen. With so many of the kids at work—and all of them so strong—they completed the project in a matter of hours, then removed the dead bodies.