Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Why?” Kierse demanded, whirling on Lorcan for the answers Graves refused to give. “What would I find?”
“Wisps can kill warlocks,” Lorcan told her.
Kierse’s eyes widened in horror. “You thought . . . I was a threat.”
“No,” Graves said automatically, pain in his voice at that accusation. “Never.”
Kierse took another step back. A step away from them both.
How had she gotten here? To this moment when the man she had finally taken her guard down for, who she cared for, who she had confided her secrets in, would truly believe this about her. Would hide the one thing she wished to know from her out of fear.
“I don’t care about your petty history or the reasons you two have been trying to kill each other. I don’t even care if you’re actually the Oak and Holly Kings,” she said, holding the spear aloft between them.
It spoke into her veins, humming into her magic, telling her how powerful she was and all the things that they could do together.
You are of my line, too.
If what the spear said was true, that the Fae were of the magical line just as Lorcan and Graves were, then she had every right to this spear.
“You both lied to me,” she accused. “If I am a wisp and of the Fae, then this spear is mine. I claim it by my birthright as a Fae, and neither of you will take it from me.”
“As it should be,” Lorcan agreed without pause.
Fire shot through Graves’s eyes. For a split second, she thought that Graves would regret what he’d done when he realized he had lost the sword, but he was too absorbed in his feud with Lorcan to see that he’d shattered her trust along with the binding on her true identity.
“This is over,” Kierse declared.
“It’s not over,” Graves barked, his gaze still settled on Lorcan. “He broke our arrangement. He had your friends kidnapped. He doesn’t get the right to walk out of this room.”
“You think that you can stop me?” Lorcan asked.
Graves narrowed his eyes. “It’s time to finally settle this.”
“I should have killed you for what you did to Emilie,” Lorcan said. “My sister deserved better.”
“This has nothing to do with Emilie.”
“It has everything to do with Emilie, and we both know it!” Lorcan yelled. He raised the gun and gestured to Kierse. “I was wrong. You’ll use her and discard her like all the others. You’re the same as you’ve always been.”
Something snapped in Graves’s carefully calm veneer. He lunged for Lorcan. The gun was still aimed lazily in Kierse’s direction, and Graves knocked it out of Lorcan’s hand with a swing of the sword. It went off with a crack. Gen and Ethan screamed. Kierse ducked, but the shot had gone wide, barely missing Kierse and embedding in a bookshelf beyond. A cat’s shriek came up from nearby, and Anne darted across the library in a hurry.
With the gun out of play, Lorcan jerked out of Graves’s path and grasped the handle of the black sword he had at his side. With a swing that said he had been training for centuries, he lifted the sword and met Graves with a clash.
An ancient battle had begun.
Spring and fall.
Summer and winter.
Light and dark.
This was just the new catalyst to this age-old tale. The Oak and the Holly Kings raged against each other to either bring back the light and spring or keep the world in perpetual darkness. And on this night, the tides felt as if they could go either way.
As they were entrenched in the battle, Kierse took her chance. She shifted into slow motion and came at the Druids holding her friends. She could feel the ease with which she shifted in and out of her powers. The way it moved through her like liquid. Never before had it felt this seamless. In fact, it was so easy that she overshot her exit and came out past her friends.
The Druid holding Ethan barked out a shout at her swift movement. Kierse leveraged the spear the way she had been training and directed the instrument toward the woman. She balked at the sheer ferocity of Kierse’s actions, dropping the knife that held Ethan. Kierse kicked out, sending the woman sailing back a few feet, and she landed in a heap by the coffee table and chairs.
“Aisling!” the second Druid cried.
“Get her, Niall,” Aisling groaned.
As soon as he was free, Ethan turned and jumped at Niall, who was holding Gen. Kierse was there a second later, popping out of slow motion to bash Niall in the head. She didn’t know what new fighting styles she could achieve, how much faster she could go, or what other consequences came with this. Only that she had to get her friends out of here alive.
Niall landed hard on the ground. Blood welled on his temple from the force of the strike, and for a moment, she feared that she had killed the guy. That hadn’t been her intention. When he groaned and tried to roll over, she released a sigh of relief. She didn’t know her own strength.