Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I snapped my teeth at him. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
He hesitated only a moment more before pursing his lips and hurrying off, leaving me alone.
Okay. All right. A relieved breath seeped from me, and I finally relaxed my stance. Well, as relaxed as a woman like me could get. Obviously, I wasn’t letting either man’s promise of retribution dictate my actions.
Problem: I now knew more of those turul-shifters occupied the forest. Should I really take off and risk another run-in?
Might be better to wait, just a bit, amass supplies and weapons, and find a map of the forest. And shoes!
Also, what about Malachi’s offer? I still had no plans to cash in, but did I really wish to cut ties with the target right now? Although, granted, said target wasn’t exactly sane. Viktor flowed in and out of coherency, was execution-happy, and produced more mysteries than Hallmark.
The outside commotion increased in volume, certain Hungarian phrases crystalizing. “No, Majesty.” “Please, no.” “Don’t do this!”
What in the world? My injured, throbbing feet carried me out of the tent before my brain registered my intention. No guards stood at the door, so no one tried to capture me. Fading sunlight spotlighted soldiers congregated around an enraged Viktor, who tossed or broke anyone he could reach. He reached far too many. They toppled one after the other, broken and bleeding, unable to contain him, even as they worked in tandem.
The sight of him stopped me in my tracks, my heart thudding against my ribs. I’d thought him in a berserkerage before, but no. He’d told me he hadn’t yet raged and here, now I believed him.
This was a berserkerage.
He wasn’t just bigger; he was monstrous. His eyes were filled with those glowing golden rings, no hint of green remaining. His irises radiated deep cesspools of rage, yes, but mostly hatred. Thin black lines didn’t fork or flash beneath his skin, as before, but pooled and layered, resembling feathers. Like the turul-shifters, he brandished long, sharp claws.
Bodi stood out of striking distance, doing his best to calm the king with words. “Let’s talk about this, Majesty. I will make it better, whatever it is. Just tell me. That’s all you need to do.”
Viktor paused and sniffed the air. His attention swung to me and stuck.
The force of his notice sent me stumbling back, as if I’d been kicked. Guess I had a flight response, after all. I should run now. Yes, yes, I should.
Bodi spotted me, too. Anger pulsated from him, and he bellowed in Hungarian, “Leave, female!”
My cue. I spun on my heel and sprinted off. A vicious roar rang out behind me, sending chills down my spine. Fresh grunts of pain followed me, creating a terrible chorus. I picked up the pace, flying through the camp, scanning, scanning, searching for the wisest direction. Right. Definitely right. My breath quickened.
“Nooo!” I screamed when brawny arms clamped around me. With every ounce of my strength, I fought for my freedom.
A huffing, puffing Viktor hauled me against his powerful body and held tight, but…hmm. He never harmed me. In fact, he didn’t even prick me with the tips of his claws.
“Enough, drága.”
His delicious scent filled my nose, and I…settled. The danger must have passed. “We all good, Tor?”
“I told you not to run,” he rasped between ragged breaths. Once again, he spoke with two voices. His own, and that of his beast?
“Yes, well, I’m not exactly keen to stick around when you’re shredding your own men like cheddar cheese.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” The second voice faded. “I only removed a few organs.”
Soldiers slowly, cautiously approached us. Well, almost. They halted a good distance away, out of the strike zone. Many wobbled, injured and bleeding. All peered at me in shock. Murmurs of “firebrand” arose.
Not this again! I wasn’t Viktor’s soulmate, okay. Nope. Not this steel magnolia. Maddened had never been my type. And as he’d babbled earlier, I wasn’t his type, either. On top of all that, let’s not forget the Valkara, the real firebrand. But…
Viktor’s reaction to me. It did explain why Malachi would pick someone as normal as me for such a special, suicidal mission. Though how could he have known I might be in the running for firebrand of the year?
“Put me down,” I insisted, wiggling against Viktor.
A ragged moan left him, and I stilled. Either he was injured, and I just couldn’t see the damage, or I’d hurt him in some way. I didn’t like the guy, but I didn’t want him to suffer.
“Will you run again?” he demanded.
“Probably. But not right this second or anything.” Maybe not the best response, but honest. “I give you my word.”
He stiffened. “There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you.”
“Just FYI, you aren’t helping your cause when you get all supervillainy.” Not much, anyway. Because yes, a part of me might kind of…like it. But only a part! The worst part, clearly.