Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“Yes, sir.” Della goes straight to work, leaving the room to go to her chambers. I hear bottles clinking, the sound of Della getting all the items she needs, and as I study Willow’s motionless body on the bed, the guilt eats me alive. I shouldn’t have let her walk into that situation with Rami. I should’ve known he’d pull something as low as drugging a woman just to try to get his way. He was luring me there, not her, and he was ready to pull all the stops if it meant taking me down…even if that meant killing her.
The moment I saw her pants down and him on top of her, strangling her, something inside me snapped. My vision turned red, and the agreement I’d made with The Council years ago about not killing another monarch slipped my mind. I couldn’t let him kill her.
I’d fucked up by murdering Rami, and I’m going to hear about it soon, I’m sure of it, but if I hadn’t killed him, he would’ve killed her. I’d do it again if it meant saving her, which is highly unlike me, but I’ve come to realize there are a lot of things about Willow that I'd never do for anyone else. She’s just…different. That’s all I can say. She’s different and she’s grown on me.
Willow whimpers, and I take a step closer.
“Della!” I call.
She scurries into the room, cradling several vials in her arms.
“Her lips are turning blue.” My heart beats harder, faster. “Is that normal? What should we do? We can’t let her die—we have to get her back to her world—”
“Mr. Harlow, stop worrying!” Della drops all the vials on a desktop, and they clatter, some dropping onto the floor, but she doesn’t care as she turns to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. I feel her touch searing through my jacket and pull away. “I’ll take care of this. Now go.”
Della returns to her medicines, dumping some into a silver bowl and mixing them together. I step back, giving Willow one more look before leaving the room.
I shut the door and walk down the hallway, a tightness developing in my chest—one that I’m sure is connected to Willow. I work twice as hard to breathe and almost double over in the hallway, but I grip the corner of a nearby wall, collecting a few breaths.
Her pain is mine, and I won’t rest until I know she’s all right.
Forty-Nine
WILLOW
When I open my eyes, there’s an ache in my belly. I wince and groan as I clutch my stomach. The warmth of my skin clings to my fingers, and I realize I don’t have a shirt on. Just a bra.
Frowning, I sit up and lift the blanket to see I’m in my panties too. I’m half naked, and at the realization, a jarring memory hits me.
Rami taking my pants off, trying to force himself on me. The slap. The anger in his eyes as he choked me. The hopelessness.
Tears fill my eyes just as someone clears their throat, making me gasp.
Looking up, I find Caz sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. He’s dressed in all black—pants, shoes, and a T-shirt that hugs his upper body. His arms are out, muscled, with those dreadful black veins all over them. Everything about him looks refreshed but his eyes. His eyes are tired, dark bruises around them, as if he hasn’t slept in weeks. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his lap, his fingers laced together beneath his chin. His blue eyes are locked on me.
“Nothing happened to you,” he says, then sits up, dropping his hands. “Nothing of that nature, anyway.”
“Oh.” Relief swims through me. Something shifts to my right and Silvera pops up, her front paws on the bed.
“Oh. Hi, girl.” I rub the top of her head as she nuzzles her damp nose into me. I wonder how long she’s been here.
“She hasn’t left your side since we got here. We’ve had to bring her food because she wouldn’t leave.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I start to stroke her back but notice my hands are shaking. The shakes are bad. I can hardly control it.
“It’s the aftereffects.” I meet Caz’s eyes again as Silvera hops down. “Della had to create some concoction to throw off the suppressant. It zaps the nerves, but it clears the suppressant out of your system. Which reminds me, you should probably go take a piss before you end up going in the bed.”
I blink at him, realizing my bladder does feel full, before attempting to climb out of the bed. As I place one foot on the ground, one of my knees buckle, but Caz is up in an instant to catch me. I cling to him as best as my shaky hands will allow and carry my gaze up to his. Our eyes connect—his cloudy, tired, and swimming with mild concern.