Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Caz meets up to me as Silvera and Cerberus sniff around. “We call this place the Monarch Terrain,” he says, looking upward.
I look with him, allowing the sunlight to bathe my skin with its gold warmth. “Why is it called that?” I ask.
“It was created as a place for all monarchs to practice, whether it be with swords, knives, or guns. See how the trees curve?”
“Yeah.”
“A Mythic made it so that the trees keep everything inside it. Whether a bullet goes astray or a dagger ends up flying too far across the field, it won’t escape this area. Originally there were people living in this forest. Lots of commoners, and the previous monarchs didn’t want anyone getting hurt during their practice, so this place was created. I like to think of it as a bubble of sorts. I actually heard someone accidentally got shot in the ass before the barrier was created.”
“You did not!” I bust out laughing.
“I swear it!” he laughs. “Anyway, those posts,” he says, pointing to the wooden pedestals. “They help us practice. Watch this.”
Caz jogs away, stopping at a tree next to the posts. This tree is not like the others. It looks to be more of a black pole with the design of tree bark. He presses a button on the pole, and the pole whirs to life. It splits into three sections, revealing spin dials. The dials wind with aging creaks, and the pedestals next to them rise in the air. They fly toward the center of the field, floating midair as Caz makes his way back to me.
One of the pedestals shoots something out. I can’t make out what it is. A boomerang? A disc? Whatever it is, it comes flying down, whirling around the terrain rapidly until Caz whips out his gun, cocks it, and shoots it down.
I walk with him, and he picks up the object. It’s a wooden bird with a bullet smackdab in the center.
“This,” Caz says, raising it in the air, “is the best target practice you’ll ever get. You learn to shoot down one of these with a weapon, and you’re good as gold.”
I look up again at the floating pedestals. They shoot out another bird, but Caz doesn’t shoot it this time. Instead, he gestures to me. “Right. Go on. Let me see what you’ve got.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp. “I’m nervous. What if I miss?”
He smiles graciously. “Then you try again.”
His eyes fall to the gun attached to my hip. “Retrieve your gun.” I do, and he takes a step toward me. “Don’t be afraid of it.”
“Hard not to be. They’re so dangerous.”
“Wrong. It’s the person who has it that makes it dangerous. If your intentions are good, there’s nothing dangerous about it. You’re only using it to protect yourself.”
“I’m not really a gun-positive person,” I say, half-joking.
“I get it.” His cerulean eyes shift up to the top of one of the trees. “Your world is not like this. On Earth, I bet it’s frowned upon to love guns so much.”
“Meh. Guns are a hot topic on Earth. Lots of debates about them.”
“Well, this is Vakeeli. And like you said, you want to be able to protect yourself. If push comes to shove, I want you to protect yourself too. So, we’ll start with guns, and then we’ll move on to knives and daggers. How’s that sound?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
“Right.” Caz steps behind me, and I’m not prepared for him to wrap his arms around me. His warm fingers slide down my forearms until his palm is resting on the back of my hand. I feel a shiver ride through me, that same feeling I had when we first kissed, and I bite a smile as he whispers on the shell of my ear, “Let me teach you.”
“’Kay,” I breathe, holding the gun with both hands.
“Raise your gun and aim,” he whispers again, breath warm. Goosebumps crawl up my spine, the heat of his body flush against my back. “Focus on the target,” he murmurs, and I do my best to focus on the wooden bird which is impossible seeing as he feels so good against me…
Focus, Willow.
He chuckles, and I’m certain that thought slipped out.
The bird floats everywhere, not as fast as the first bird, but still pretty quick. It bobs back and forth over the pedestals, nearly hitting the trees. I align my gun with the angle of the bird.
“When you lock on your target, pull the trigger,” Caz says, and I press my finger to the trigger, sending a bullet flying toward the bird. The gunshot echoes along with a hollow thunk, and the wooden object flails to the ground.
“Holy shit!” I gasp when Caz pulls away. “I shot it!”
“I knew you could do it!” I jump into his arms, and he holds me tight with a deep laugh. “You see? You’re a natural.”