Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Then, at his feet, something stirred.
Tiny ice blossoms, pale as moonlight, sprouted from the dusty road.
She shivered. “W-what is this?”
The man looked at them as they continued to grow. Petals shimmered in frost-touched spirals. Sharp-edged and lovely. They became clearer and finally she understood that they were not simply blooms, but ice roses, sculpted from magic.
He put his view back on her. “Very pretty. Have you done that before?”
“I didn’t mean to. . .” she whispered. “I don’t know how I did that.”
But he didn’t look surprised.
Not even a little.
Instead, his gaze dropped back on the ice roses with hunger.
While the ice bloomed from her, it was his heat that called it forward. And Sol was suddenly realizing that he knew which parts of her pulsed magic.
“I’ve dreamed of a moment like this but never did I think I would get it.” He raised his hand and moved it toward the ones near his feet.
Next, he crouched and extended two fingers.
She should’ve stopped him.
She didn’t.
He touched the nearest bloom.
It didn’t shatter.
It melted.
A dark groan left him. “Mmmm.”
Petal by petal, the roses dripped into the soil with a slow sensual hiss. Steam curled around his knuckles like breath.
And her body responded. A slow, traitorous heat bloomed in her core. She clamped her thighs together.
What is this?
Her nipples tightened against the fabric of her dress.
Oh no.
The rest of the roses melted with him, as if they obeyed the heat in his skin. And something inside her melted too—unseen, unbidden, and all too wet.
He looked up then, those golden eyes glowing with unspoken knowledge. His lips curved.
Not a smile.
A pure knowing.
“You have no idea what you are yet, do you? But you will soon. . .”
“I. . .am going.” She backed up some more. “And you will be leaving in the other direction.”
He stood.
Heat rose around her. It licked at her ankles, coiled up her spine. The chill she’d wrapped herself in trembled and then faltered.
“Unfortunately, I cannot leave you here.” There was no humor on his face. "You have been in the wrong place for too long. It is now time for you to come with me, little one."
She shook her head. "I am not going anywhere with you."
"You must. I like treasure and you are priceless. Kingdoms have burned for less. Even if I wanted to walk away from you, I could not."
What?
Panic clawed at her ribs.
Her pulse thundered.
She raised her hands, power singing in her blood. Ice bloomed at her fingertips. With a cry, she hurled twin bolts of frost toward him.
He moved too fast.
A blur of shadow and heat, dodging the blasts like a phantom.
But then he came for her.
She barely had time to gasp before he struck—hands like brands seizing her arms, heat ripping through her skin like wildfire licking bone. They seared into her arms, devouring her frost with a hiss.
Her magic sizzled.
Heat swallowed cold.
Terror lanced through her.
Just like Korin.
No, no. This isn’t possible.
She screamed and lashed out, a desperate blast of jagged ice erupting from her palms.
The bolt slammed into his chest with a thunderclap. His scream tore through the air—more beast than man, a guttural rupture that split the night and slammed against her ribs like a war drum.
What is he?! How did he make that sound?!
He released her.
She fell to the road hard, rolled, scrambled to her feet, and bolted off the road.
She didn't run toward the Lowly Quarter.
No.
She couldn’t.
Her parents were there. They were powerless. They wouldn't survive a creature like this.
So, she ran into the Wretched Forest.
Thorns tore at her already tattered dress. Roots clawed at her bare feet. The trees seemed to shift and reach, but she didn’t care. She had to get him away, to somewhere she could trap him.
Maybe even kill him.
That thought made her stomach twist. She had never killed before. But if she had to. . .she would.
Behind her, his voice chased like smoke. "Running will not help you. I have your scent now. From now on, you will never be able to hide from me."
She screamed and hurled a blast of ice behind her.
A grunt followed, telling her that she’d gotten him.
She kept running.
Branches whipped her arms.
The stench of old bark and moss filled her lungs.
And then, all of a sudden, behind her, the forest groaned—and then a new sound came. A terrible, monstrous cracking, like ancient bones snapping beneath a giant's foot.
What is that?
She glanced back and barely saw the man, but she did see trees shattering in succession, one after the other, as if the very earth had grown tired of holding them upright. No axe did this. These were trees screaming—splitting from the inside out, their cores shredded like sinew, their trunks cracking open like bone, under divine weight.
What kind of magic does he have?
Limbs exploded outward, bark rained down like shrapnel, and the cries of splintering trunks filled the air with a violence that didn't belong to any man or beast she knew.