Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 127722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
I didn’t expect him to come for me. It would be a betrayal of his people, of his queen. Our little plan hadn’t worked, and that was a surprise to us both.
The enormous wooden doors that led to the city were wide open for Teeth to come and go. There were cabins throughout the pine forests. I could see them as I passed. But there was no farming, no livestock, no other signs of civilization.
Then I remembered…they didn’t need those things.
Even if Huntley came for me, it would take far too long, and by the time he got here, I’d be long dead.
I’d be the feast on the table.
As I was marched forward, I saw other Teeth pass me on the street. Some of them shifted their gazes and glanced at me, like they knew full well that I didn’t belong there—and I wasn’t one of them.
The only good thing was the shade the mountain provided. It dropped the temperature exponentially, actually left me slightly cold because the sun hadn’t hit the city the entire day. We passed dwellings and shops, but if they didn’t sell food, I didn’t know what they sold. There was no market like at home. The place was nothing like home.
We made it to the very top, to another set of double doors that led to a stone building several stories tall. The second we stepped inside, it was dark, so dark that my eyes needed to take a moment to adjust. Then I noticed the thick rug on the floor, the torches along the walls, the eerie silence.
I knew exactly where they were taking me.
To Klaus.
I was marched deeper inside, down long hallways, and then entered a room with a glass ceiling.
I felt him before I saw him.
On a large throne, he sat, smaller chairs on either side of him vacant. Dressed in all black with one ankle crossed on the opposite knee, he sat there with his arms sprawled down the armrests, his dark eyes on me with subtle interest.
The men positioned me feet from his throne then retreated behind me.
I stared.
He stared.
It was just like it’d been in the snow. But this time, I didn’t have a sword. I didn’t have my bow and arrow. I didn’t have a fighting chance, not when there was nowhere for me to run, not when I didn’t even have a butter knife to cut his eyes out.
What I noticed most was the paleness of his features, the way his skin looked like snow while his clothes were the color of night. He was so still he didn’t seem to draw breath. His eyes were so serious he didn’t need to blink. He bent his arms and brushed his fingers across his bottom lip. “Welcome to the Crags.”
“Happy to be here.” My sarcasm was all I had. I used it when I was scared to pretend I wasn’t. Used it when I didn’t have a weapon to do all the talking. I used it when I had nothing left to lose.
“Your sacrifice has prevented a war.”
“Not my sacrifice—as I didn’t come here willingly.”
His stare ensued, piercing flesh and bone. “Then your queen made the right sacrifice—”
“That bitch ain’t my queen.” I didn’t respect a woman who betrayed her own son. Who was so wounded by her own pain that she didn’t hesitate to inflict that same pain on others. Someone like that shouldn’t be in power.
Klaus made a subtle gesture to the men who’d brought me there. “Take her to my chambers.”
Their hands were on me a second later, but I could hardly feel them, because I knew the meaning of his words. “I’m not letting you touch me.” I threw my body into the one on the right then bashed my fist into his face. My elbow flew to the other, and then I ran for it, heading to the nearest hallway.
A big guy came from nowhere and struck me hard from the side.
I hit the stone floor and nearly broke my shoulder.
Now all three of them were on me, pulling me to my feet and yanking me down the hallway.
I fought tooth and nail, bit my attackers, kicked, screamed—you name it. But all it did was slow my progression down the hallway rather than prevent it. When I was dragged into the room, I saw the large four-poster bed and the furniture that surrounded it. Everything was high-end and well-made, just like everything at Delacroix.
I was pinned down and stripped naked.
“Fuck. You.” I bit into another then felt a hand slap me hard in the face.
Ropes were secured to my wrists and ankles, and I was stuck on my back, like a spread eagle. I wanted to cry, when I never cried. I wanted to give in to the grief for what was about to happen to me. I wanted to escape—and not return to Huntley or Delacroix. I wanted to take on Queen Rolfe—and stab her right through those fucking eyes.