Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
No more chances.
If I failed again, my parents would perish. My sister, too. My niece—the oh, so infuriating Iris—would grow up hunted in a world I should have saved.
“Moriah.” Jasher called to me from the abyss.
The haze burned away, and once again, he came into view. He was both more and less monstra. Bigger wings, longer claws, sharper teeth, but my Jasher’s face. Agony coated his features as he held me close.
A part of me longed to fold myself into his embrace. To soak in his comfort and offer my own. But anger and suspicion erected a concrete wall around my heart.
The elixir I’d fed him at the start of our journey had done exactly as advertised: revealed the truth of who he was. The killer who’d betrayed me over and over without remorse.
Whatever he saw in my eyes hit him like a blow. He released me and stepped back.
He braced, as if preparing for war. “Shall we pit your truth against mine, princess?”
I curled my hands into fists. “We shall, Tinman.”
31
UNDISPUTED CHAMPION
Jasher loomed mere breaths away, a tower of temptation and menace cloaked in a tangle of shadow and light. His wings were now big enough to sweep around us, erasing the rest of the world.
I held myself rigid, refusing to flinch beneath the weight of my feelings for him. Love hadn’t faded. But countless betrayals had trapped it behind internal armor—and a heart of stone, battered and broken time and time again until only rubble remained. For the first time, my love could not influence my decisions about him.
How could I ever trust this man again?
“What did you see in the void?” I asked, already certain of the answer. Memories still churned at the edges of my mind, frothing against a mental dam I hadn’t known I’d built. They beat against it in relentless waves, fragments of my different lives.
“What else? Our story, unfolding over centuries.”
Then he’d seen much of what I had. My eyes slitted. “You led me to death. Many times.” And only days ago, he’d blamed me for killing him. Which, I admit, I had done…occasionally.
“I did,” he agreed, offering no more.
I liked that he didn’t deny it or toss out excuses.
Instead, he pinched a lock of my emerald hair and rubbed the strands between two fingers. “I hate what I did to you. Hate that I chose Ian, betraying you.” His arm fell to his side, anguish blazing bright in his sunset eyes. “But I know—I know—I am a new man this time. Moriah, I feel it.”
His fervor beat at my armored heart, denting the metal but not piercing it. “Sorry, Jasher. I believed you before. Not ever again.”
“This time is different.” Determination turned his features to granite. “I am different. You made me different.”
I examined him for the smallest trace of falsehood. A hint of Ian’s telltale smirk or a single flicker of ill intent. Something to reveal a crack in Jasher’s resolve. But none appeared.
My gaze dropped to his wrists. If the Ring of Truth did its job, a shackle should appear any second. Proof of his lie. But seconds passed and…nothing.
A hidden remnant of hope flickered within me. He believed it then. Believed he was changed.
What are you doing? I scowled at him, at myself. This was my last chance to win against Ian. Sin and Malkom were a worry for tomorrow. Today, every decision mattered.
Jasher’s actions spoke louder than his words. “You didn’t just lead me to my deaths,” I said. “You lied to me, stole from me, and sabotaged my efforts.” Yes, I’d seen mere glimpses of our other interactions, rather than the complete picture, but I didn’t need to dig through the wreckage of remembrances to know I spoke true.
“And I will forever regret it,” he said, unflinching. “But I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
“As have I.” Stay strong. “I will never trust you again, Jasher.” I lifted my chin, proud of the steel in my voice…until the Ring of Truth flared, and the flames exploded in sparks.
A thin silver band shimmered into existence around my left wrist, a pulse of something raw and electric surging from it. In seconds, weakness spilled through my veins in great waves.
The metal was ice against my skin. But I hadn’t lied. The Ring was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I’d meant those words. Even if my heart hadn’t.
My new bling remained. The Ring didn’t care about my pride, or what I wanted to be true; only about the part of me still capable of hope.
“The Ring is never wrong,” Jasher said, as if he’d read my thoughts. Triumph flared in his eyes. He whooshed closer, suddenly only a whisper away.
I bowed up, ready to defend, always, but my left arm, the one with the chain, reacted slowly. The limb now weighed a hundred pounds. At least.