The Savage Rage of Fallen Gods (Savage Falls #1) Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Savage Falls Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
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I love Madeline. Love is a strong word, I know that. But there is no one else in this town who will have a conversation with me, or smile at me, or give me free bubble bath just to be nice. So I have decided to love her.

Which is why the nightmare is so terrible.

She’s not a dragon now, of course. But I know that deep down she is a dragon. It’s under control somehow. Magic, probably.

What really doesn’t make any sense though, is how Tarq, or Apis, or both take control of her and destroy everything. Because when I left—rather, when I was pulled out by Pie and put into the Bottoms prison—I was the only person who could get anywhere near her without being burned alive.

The timeline is another concern of mine. Because I can’t quite make sense of it. I fully understand that time is fluid. It comes and goes. Stops and starts.

But, from what I can gather, Madeline has always been here. Relative ‘here.’ Granite Springs, Savage Falls, Granite Falls, Savage Springs. Whatever this place is called, she is from here.

So is what’s happening in my time the past? Or the future? Or the present?

It’s quite confusing and my head is pounding for some reason, so I’m not up to the task of parsing it out. I suppose it doesn’t matter though. I don’t really have a desire to understand anything these days.

It’s been building inside me, this feeling of… well. It could be indifference or it could be surrender, I’m not sure. That doesn’t matter either. The point is, I feel done here.

“Here you go.” Madeline has returned and offers me the bubble bath in her perpetually chirpy tone. She has never asked for anything in return and I appreciate that so much. I don’t have any money—I don’t even know how it works here—so I can’t pay her using that. But I can pay her another way.

I take the bottle and look her in the eyes. “Thank you, Madeline.”

Her smile drops. In surprise, I think. Since I have never talked to her, not even to demand that she call me queen.

“I would like you to know,” I continue, “that I will do everything I can to help you in the future. Or past. Or present. Whichever it may be.”

“Oh.” She touches her heart with her hand, her sweet face once again bright with optimism. “That’s so nice of you. And… thank you.”

She has no idea what my promise means. Perhaps she’s picturing makeup tips, or fashion advice. That’s probably what she thinks I’m referring to.

Certainly, she has no idea she will be breathing fire in great streams over Vinca City. Destroying it.

But this is what I’m referring to.

I will stop the destruction of Vinca. Somehow. Not for Tarq’s sake, not for my sake, but for Madeline’s sake.

I can’t take back my evil past, but perhaps I can prevent Madeline from ever having one.

I think there is more to the fog. I think it might lead somewhere.

And so that is where I’m heading when I leave the store.

CHAPTER SEVEN - EROS

A profusion of emotions flood through me as I watch Callistina walk out of my apartment, those antlers perched precariously on top of her head, those wooden blocks on her feet clopping on the hardwood steps as she descends.

“What. The fuck.” I mutter this under my breath.

But it’s not really a mystery, is it? She’s crazy. Losing her royal status turned her crazy. And ya know what? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like her. Somehow, some way we got tangled up together after Tomas’s whole Saint Mark’s game ended and that’s all this has been.

Not a relationship. Not even an affair. It’s a fling.

Was a fling. Because it’s over now.

I walk over to the bed and start ripping the sheets off. In fact, I’m gonna get rid of everything she has here. Including all that bubble bath. But as I throw the sheets on the floor, a feather floats upwards with a whoosh of air.

My eyes follow it as it floats and then falls, landing at my feet.

I reach down and pick it up. Twirling it in my fingers. Studying it.

Now, the logical conclusion when one finds a feather in their bedding is to assume it came from the pillow. But my pillows aren’t stuffed with feathers, they’re stuffed with down. And this feather—being a good eight inches in length—is not down and in no way came from a pillow.

It's also… gold. Which feels like both a reminder of the past and portents of the future.

All of which are disturbing.

I’m not sure where it came from, but finding it in my bed is so disgusting to me, I almost retch. I can’t even think straight for a moment, that’s how grossed out I am.


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