Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 247882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1239(@200wpm)___ 992(@250wpm)___ 826(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 247882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1239(@200wpm)___ 992(@250wpm)___ 826(@300wpm)
Heart pounding, I pressed my hand to my chest as clouds appeared over the sea, darkening the night sky. I was on the verge of becoming a Primal, and it struck me, finally, the why now of it all. Why Isbeth had waited until this time to exact her centuries-old plans. She’d had to wait until I entered the Culling so she could… I stared at the altar. So she could kill me. But she had…
But it wasn’t me on that altar.
Malec wasn’t the True King of the Realms as we believed. This really had nothing to do with him or even me. We were just pawns.
Suddenly, I thought about the prophecy. “‘The Bringer of Death and Destruction,’” I murmured, and Casteel’s gaze flew to mine. “Not Death and Destruction, but the bringer of it.” My hand lifted to my mouth. That godsdamn prophecy… “And I did just that.”
“Fuck,” Malik growled.
“This is not the right time,” Casteel said under his breath, “but I just want to point out that I always said you were not death and destruction.”
Kieran shot him a look because it really, really wasn’t the time, and because while Malik’s reluctance to give Malec to Isbeth may not have been rooted in knowledge of what was to come, if we had listened to him…
No. If we had known, we wouldn’t have stopped. We wouldn’t have risked Kieran. Right or wrong, it was as simple as that.
“Then what is this?” Millicent demanded. “Who is the Harbinger?”
“She is the Harbinger.” Callum’s head swung to her. “The warning.” His eyes widened. “What did you think, dear? That she was the one who would destroy the realms?” He glanced at me. “A Primal born of mortal flesh? Her?” His laugh echoed through the valley. “Seriously?”
I stiffened. “At any other time, I would find that kind of rude.”
“No offense meant, Your Highness,” he said with a mockery of a bow. “It’s just that it would take eons for you to become that powerful, and that was if the power didn’t drive you mad first.”
The limp, flat hair flew about Millicent’s face as she shook her head, while Isbeth continued sobbing—as the dread grew and grew. The last part of Callum’s comment was something we’d have to worry about later. “No.”
“Yes.” Callum tipped his head back as he eyed me. “It should’ve been you on the altar. That was the plan. That is what all of this has been about. You.” He pointed to Millicent and then to me. “And you. Yeah, we’ll have to deal with you later.” Callum winked. “But now, it’s time.”
“Time for what, you silly fuck?” Kieran snarled, grasping the hilt of his sword.
The Revenant’s eyes closed. “Time to bow to the one True King of the Realms.”
Casteel stepped toward him. “And who is that supposed to be?”
Pressure settled on my shoulders. An awareness that brought a chill to the nape of my neck. That heavy, oppressive feeling—the same as I’d felt the night that Vessa had struck down the draken, and in the woods outside of Three Rivers—cloaked my skin. I’d felt it before when we were in Stonehill and I’d heard that voice urging me to lose control.
The same one I’d heard that night in Lockswood when I’d been floating in the nothingness.
“He’s been waiting.” Callum ignored Kieran, his chin dipped, eyes eager and voice soft, full of worship—so very much like the Priests and Priestesses in Oak Ambler. “This whole time, he too has slept fitfully. Kept well fed under the Temple of Theon.”
Kieran’s skin blanched as a shudder rocked me. “The children,” I gasped. “The extra Rite.”
“He had to be strong enough to awaken, and he was.” Callum dragged his teeth along his lower lip. “When you shed the mortal flesh and began your Ascension, it freed him. And soon, when Malec takes his final breath, he will be at his full strength. All these years—all these centuries and centuries—he’s been waiting. Sleeping even more restlessly after your birth. Sensing you, feeling you. He’s been waiting and waiting for the proverbial key to his lock, for his…pretty poppy to pick and watch bleed.”
Red-hot rage swirled through Casteel, gathering in my throat like a pool of acid. He moved so fast, I didn’t see his hand until it was tearing through Callum’s chest, and the Revenant’s heart was in his palm, dripping blood and thick tissue.
Malik and Millicent turned to him. “What?” Casteel snarled, throwing the heart aside. “I couldn’t listen to another word. Not even going to say I’m sorry. Fuck him.”
Delano’s imprint brushed against my thoughts. Something’s coming…
No, someone was already here.
Death.
Destruction.
Stale lilacs.
Oh, my gods.
The dread exploded into panic as I jerked to the side. “Kolis.”
Chapter 48
A blast of energy rippled out from Malec, unseen but felt. Dark. Oily. Suffocating as it slammed into us. There was no warning—no time to prepare. The statues of the kneeling gods exploded, all down the Temple. Casteel and I skidded back several feet into Kieran. He caught both of us while Malik lost his balance and went down on one knee. Millicent was knocked against the pillars. Twisting at the waist, I saw Delano and several of the wolven hunched low to the ground, their ears flattened, and their teeth bared. And that lingering energy, it made my skin crawl and smelled of stale lilacs.