Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
I forced myself to look away and ahead, and our eyes met.
Stories of Alisdair Shadowsoul had been told across the land for generations, and grew more terrifying and frightening with each mass slaughter and unbelievable defeat he won on the battlefield. Mama would croon his story late at night while Meli and I clung to each other under the covers, afraid he’d burst in right then.
Everything Mama said was so horrifically right... and wrong.
Curling, raven locks swept back from his forehead and were tightly bound, revealing the ivory horns poking from his scalp. His pointed fae ears were slightly too pointed, giving away that he wasn’t quite the same as us—if the unnaturally long, lethal nails at the tip of strong, powerful hands didn’t do a perfect job saying the same. Mama was right. He was half faeman, half beast.
He was also shockingly, heart-stoppingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.
Full, dusky lips set in a small frown, carried by a strong, sculpted jaw. He had a long, regal nose that had never known a pimple or blemish. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. This face had never known an imperfection.
I drew closer to him—captured in his glittering, amber eyes like a bird caught in a sticky, molasses trap. I could go nowhere. I could do nothing... but go to him.
And with every step that brought me closer, his thick brows climbed higher and higher.
King Salman couldn’t speak. He’d have to haul his jaw off the floor for that.
“I—I—I have no words to explain this display,” Emiana’s father wheezed. “Believe me, Lord Alisdair, this is a bewildering mistake.” Salman shot in front of me, bringing his half a dozen guards with him. They all got between me and Shadowsoul. “We want nothing more than to see this union through. She will go back and change immediately.”
“There is no need.”
I blinked, confused for a moment. That deep, smooth, honeyed voice could not have come from the monster who haunted my dreams for the last week, and yet it was his lips moving.
Shadowsoul waved his hand, making the guards grab at their crystals. I gasped, eyes bugging.
Mangled, hacked locks flowed whole and new from my scalp. The face paints vanished from my gown, leaving nothing but delicate, gossamer white. Diamonds reappeared at the hem, and the thick, heavy weight of all the goop slapped on my face disappeared.
I was the shining beauty of Lyrica once again, and I could’ve screamed.
“Let us proceed,” Alisdair drawled. He turned on the officiant, who I swear shrunk under his gaze. “Begin.”
His command set up a flurry of movement. Salman pounced on me, dragging me none-too-gently the rest of the way down the aisle, and forcing his guards to squeeze and trip over themselves to remain surrounding him. Meya forbid they give the faeriken a clear shot.
“A valiant attempt, girl, but nothing, nothing, will prevent what will happen here today,” he hissed in my ear. “You think yourself worthy enough to rule? These pathetic antics reveal you. A true monarch knows that to rule is to sacrifice.”
My lips parted. I’m not your daughter. I’m not Emiana! She cursed me. Let me go, please!
Nothing came out.
“You embarrass me.”
My heart panged. Emiana’s memories had yet to crowd out mine, but those words I knew. I couldn’t recall when, why, or what happened, but King Salman had said those words to his only child many times. For as long as she had memory.
“I don’t want to do this,” I got out—a truth that was both Emiana’s and mine. “I won’t marry him.”
“You will do as you’re told,” he snapped, planting me in front of him, and leaving his guards behind. They surrounded me on all sides—boxing me in. Cutting off all chance at escape.
For all the hatred, blood, and tears between our two people, the king honored this joining of our nations and the end to the war with a ceremony beyond compare.
A golden dais rose as high as the arched windows, catching the streaming sunlight in its opulent reflection, and making the entire altar glitter. Rare, red dahlia roses tickled my gown, spreading their sweet, calming scent into the air.
I breathed it in hard, wishing for that calm as I looked anywhere but at Shadowsoul. To be near him was to stand humbled before a mountain, and know that for all your screaming, pounding, and fighting, you would never beat him.
Power radiated off him like heat off the sun—more confusing for the fact that there wasn’t a single coudarian crystal on him. What did it mean that this man didn’t need to store power, or worry about accessing it quickly.
He towered over me, rising at least a foot taller, and as wide as two of me put together. I could run through him, and break my neck in the attempt.
But you must attempt. You have to do something, my inner voice cried, eyes darting around. Kirwan told the steward that your fictitious debt would pass to Meliora, forcing her to become a war wife in your place. Emiana will not take care of my family. It’ll look like I simply disappeared, and Meliora would be left to the horror I tried to save her from.