Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
I meant to pull away. To protest. I leaned closer, studying him in turn. Those stars. They spun, slowly at first, then faster and faster until becoming rings. Mesmerizing. Warmth cascaded through me, relaxing tense muscles.
“Say it.” The husky entreaty tickled my ears.
Yes. There was nothing I yearned to do more. I loved and adored this man. Our future was now and forever. “You are . . . I . . .” A buzzing sensation in the center of my chest seized my attention, halting my affirmation. What in the world?
In the ensuing pause, I saw past the spinning and into an endless pool of writhing shadows. My horror returned, a sudden revelation shocking me to the core. This. This was how he’d won Rose. She’s under his spell.
“Say it, Arden.” An unmistakable command this time, anger frothing within the words.
And what would come next, hmm? Giving Briar Rose permission to inhabit me? “No,” I stated. “I will never be Astan’s.”
His eyelids slitted. “You want the librarian.”
I opened and closed my mouth, saying nothing, thinking nothing.
“Perhaps you require a peek into Domino’s future.” Again, Cyrus waved a hand toward a wall. A hard jerk of his arm. In a mimic of the Rock, that wall became a screen that showcased something happening beyond it.
We peered into a dungeon cell, with windowless rocky walls stained with splatters of crimson. Gasping, I pressed my fingers over my mouth. Mr. Vyle perched on the velvet-covered cushion of an antique chair, drinking whiskey as the librarian hung upside down from a chain anchored to the ceiling. Blood poured from multiple wounds into a bucket.
Bile seared my throat. “Th-this isn’t the future. It’s a distortion.” It must be. Astan could only lie. “You’re trying to scare me into complying.”
“I wasn’t, but I can.” He waved to the wall, and the screen suddenly peered into our suite.
Holding my hand in a firm grip, he led me forward. In the span of a blink, we stood inside the bedroom we shared.
When next he faced me, he was almost gleeful. “Let me show you what happens when I’m without Astan.” His pupils pulsed, eclipsing his irises for a single beat. They retracted, those six glowing stars gone.
Dare I hope?
Cyrus frowned, his brows drawing together. His inhalations quickened, becoming labored. Sweat beaded over his upper lip, and the color drained from his cheeks. “Arden?” A second later, he issued an agonized grunt. Wounds broke out all over his body, blood leaking from each. The scar I’d seen on his abdomen? It gaped open.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” I rushed to him, flinging my arm around his waist just as his knees buckled. Acting as his crutch, I dragged him to the bed, and he toppled onto the mattress.
“I don’t understand,” he said between labored breaths. “I should be in the field with . . . with . . .” Misery contorted his features.
“It will be okay, it will be okay.” I rushed to the bathroom to gather the first aid kit, then rushed back to his side. After I cut away his new clothing, I tended to his wounds, cleaning and administering the proper medications. I explained everything I’d learned to the best of my ability.
As his physical pain dulled, he should have relaxed. He only grew more agitated. “I must have healed when Astan inhabited me, then returned to my injured state when he left.”
Goodness gracious, some of the wounds were deep. The curative gels and sealants I applied would aid in his recovery, but would they work fast enough? “You don’t need him to thrive or even survive. Soal will send a conduit.” I would make sure of it. “Or I will be a conduit.” Yes, yes.
Domino! I shouted his name across our bond.
No response came, and I gulped. He’d said the bond weakened when I entertained Astan’s thoughts. But I wasn’t. Was I?
“I love you,” Cyrus croaked, resolved.
Resolved . . . to die? No, no, no. “I know you do. So listen to me. You will live. Okay? But you can’t host him again. Promise me. We’ll find another way.”
“I promise.” When I finished tending his injuries, he mumbled, “Stay with me. Need you.”
Hot air lashed my lungs, a stinging whip I couldn’t escape. I settled in at his side, careful not to jostle him. I luxuriated in his warmth, his scent. His eyelids sank, and he drifted to sleep.
My mind whirled. Cyrus needed help—a plan essential. Astan would attempt to join with him again, which meant I better read my book. Which meant I must get to the Rock. Which meant I should speak with Domino, who still hadn’t responded.
I sent another SOS along our connection and waited . . . waited. No return message. I frowned, worry attempting to creep in. Had something happened to him?