Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Then the big Taurian is stomping back through the tavern, his hooves crashing on the floorboards as he makes his way back to me. The tavern is only half-full due to the early hour—the dinner rush isn’t here yet. I get to my feet to meet Raptor, but he turns to the barmaid instead, putting a few coins on the table and giving her a look.
“Room seven” is all she says, scooping up the coins.
Wait, we’re getting a room? I open my mouth to protest, but Raptor grabs my hand and heads toward the stairs at the back of the tavern’s main room. I have no choice but to follow him, dragged along behind with his tail swatting at me. “The others are going to think we’re sleeping together,” I protest even as I follow him up the stairs. “I thought we weren’t supposed to let anyone know—”
“I told them I’m taking you to the clinic. You’ve got food poisoning.”
I frown, because surely they noticed we’re heading up the stairs instead? Yet when I glance one last time back at their table, they’re not looking in this direction at all. Following along after Raptor, I try not to frown at his back. Here he’s been telling me this whole time that we should be careful not to be seen in a compromising situation together, and today he’s dragging me up the stairs. “I thought we were supposed to be cautious when we’re together.”
“Fuck all of that,” he growls, and storms onto the next landing.
With no choice but to follow behind and inwardly cringe at his bad mood, I let him lead me past door after door in the inn part of the tavern. He finds number seven, flings the door open, and then tugs me inside before I can breathe.
I stare at him, wide-eyed, as he slams the door shut behind him. “This isn’t like you, Raptor.”
“Good,” he growls, stalking toward me. “Now we’re both pretending to be something we’re not.”
“What are you talking about?” I lift my chin, determined not to let anything on. Normally when Raptor touches me, I lose all sense of who I am and start babbling anything and everything. I’m not going to let that happen today. I can’t. He’s far too close to knowing the truth about who I am, and I can’t trust him to keep that secret.
I might like him. I might be falling for him.
But I don’t know that I can trust him, and the realization stings. Will it always be like this? Even if I fall in love and someday get married, will I have to keep secrets? Forever? Or do I just keep adding to the list of those who know my secret, until it feels as if half the city knows that I’m a mancer and it makes it to the wrong ears anyhow?
I’m suddenly so very tired.
Raptor stands in front of me, all looming Taurian. It’s times like this that I’m reminded just how very large he is compared to me. I’m barely five feet, and he’s so much taller that I don’t even reach his shoulder. Instead, I find myself staring at his pectoral area. It’s a very fine pectoral area, don’t get me wrong, but it tells me nothing about what he’s thinking right now.
He tips my chin up with his fingers. “When I chased you in here, I expected you to wear a lot of expressions…but sadness wasn’t one of them.”
I lick my lips, though I’m truly tempted to lick his thumb instead. “What were you expecting, then?”
“Deceit. Because you knew that body was there, and I can’t figure out how for the life of me.”
A body.
Of course there was a body. I should have guessed, since the spirit of the dead person was pushing me toward that direction. I’m silent. Do I lie and continue with the charade? Or is he going to see right through it? Do I get brave and confess the truth and let the gods decide my fate? In the end, I chicken out. “What body?”
Raptor looks disappointed for a moment before his expression hardens again. “The one with the artifact. You pointed that pillar out when no one else saw it. What I want to know is how you found that man when he’d been missing for longer than I’ve been alive.”
My jaw drops. He’s been dead for that long?
He tips my chin back, holding my mouth open. “Aha. So you do know something. Last chance to tell me or I’m going to be very upset with you.”
I push his hand off my face. “Threats get you nowhere.”
“Don’t they?” Instead of backing off, he strokes my hair, his expression thoughtful. It’s both a tender gesture and an unnerving one. He reaches for the bun I always wear at my nape and pulls the biggest pin free. “I know how to make you talk, Gwenna.”