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)
He ground to an abrupt halt, and at first, he only gave me more scowl. But bit by bit, his expression and posture softened. Ultimately, his lids hooded, giving his entire face a seductive quality. He prowled closer to lean against the edge of the desk and savor the music.
Emboldened, I played and played and played until my body ached. Just in time to notice the sun was finishing its descent, the light in the tent dimming. When the last note faded, I breathed deep and set the instrument aside.
Viktor immediately kicked into a new pace. “Never play again,” he growled. “Tell me you understand and you will obey this order.”
What? “Why?”
“Because I said so.” Another growl.
“Why?” I demanded, unfazed.
He rubbed the center of his chest, remaining silent.
Fine. The reason didn’t matter. Better to concentrate on a subject that did matter to my continued wellbeing. Something to help me decide my next move. “Be honest. Do you believe I’m your firebrand, yes or no?”
With his back to me, he went still. The muscles between his shoulders bunched, and his hands curled into tight fists. “You shouldn’t ask such a ridiculous question. The answer is nem. Absolutely not.” He responded in heavily accented English, and I realized I’d asked in my native tongue. “There’s no chance. None. Not even the slightest possibility. If ever I’m tied to another, it will be the Valkara.” Tension blasted from him, and he snapped, “But maybe.”
Aaah! He’d all but admitted it. A part of this slightly insane royal berserker who’d maimed members of his own army for a completely irrelevant motive–just a guess on my end–believed I could be his soulmate. His fated companion. The one he was destined to love, the most powerful force on earth.
I might be the only person in any world with an innate ability to calm him.
Of course, in no way, shape or form did I reciprocate. King Viktor Endris might see me as a possible soulmate, but I didn’t view him in the same vein. I believed in the power and necessity of love, yes. And I concurred with his assessment that it was a force unlike any other. Powerful yet sweet. Healing. But I wanted what my parents enjoyed.
They had loved each other without reservation, building each other up, never tearing down. And, as Benjamin had taught me, gifting your affections to the wrong person brought only pain. You gave, they took. You encouraged, they destroyed. Been there, done that. Never again.
The entrance whisked aside, and Bodi strode into the tent. A pair of metal shackles rested in his hands. “I apologize for the delay, Majesty. We doctored the cook and his crew, and they are back in action, preparing the requested feast. I’ve also found the Bracelets.”
You’re kidding me. I popped to my feet and shook my head, locks of hair slapping my cheeks. “Hear me now, Viktor. All bets are off if you try to bind me.”
“Majesty?” the prince insisted.
Viktor adopted a crouching position, as if he planned to leap onto his soldier and rip off the man’s head with his bare hands. Snarls rumbled in his chest, and claws grew from his finger tips. “You heard her. She refuses. Toss the Bracelets.”
Oh, yeah. I was his firebrand all right, on a ring of higher importance than the Valkara, who wasn’t. A full-wattage smile bloomed. Smirking, I told Bodi, “Be a good boy and obey your king.” For good measure, I flipped my braid over my shoulder. Bravado was a language this man understood. “In case I wasn’t clear, take the handcuffs and go.”
The prince glanced between us before offering a stiff nod and striding out.
That worked? I mean, sweet! That totally worked.
In an instant, Viktor calmed again. Seeming to forget the entire incident, he kicked into another pace.
What an interesting day this had turned out to be.
Little time passed before the entrance was moved aside once more. I braced for Bodi’s return. Instead, a young soldier carried in a tray of food. Finally! From the looks of it, I’d be dining on hearty stew and crusty bread. A meal I didn’t have to peel, cut or cook. Bowls I didn’t have to wash, dry and put away. Yes, please and thank you.
The perks of being the berserker king’s firebrand were kind of fantastic.
The soldier never glanced in his king’s or my direction. Just placed the tray on the desk and rushed out.
“You gonna eat?” I asked Viktor.
He muttered a refusal.
His loss. I ate my fill, meaning all of it, doing my best to display a modicum of manners and not shovel in every bite. My companion provided the evening entertainment as he continued to pace, flexing different muscles. What a strange, complicated man.
When I swallowed the last sip of broth, a yawn cracked my jaw, fatigue sneaking up on me once again. I scanned the pallet of furs. Would stretching out in Viktor’s presence really be such a bad thing?