Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Stronger.
Stronger. The word echoed inside my head until a light bulb exploded. My spine straightened with a snap. “You fear us.”
Her eyes narrowed the slightest bit, confirming my suspicions. “I fear nothing.”
Lie! But I set the truth aside for a moment, letting it simmer in favor of digging up more information. “Why are you collecting the primordials?”
She spread her arms to indicate the entire group. “Because they are mine, my pets, and humans taint everything they touch. But soon, my darling turul will return to me, and I will reclaim all that belongs to me.”
I was about to reply, “Over my dead body,” but that’s precisely what she wanted, wasn’t it?
Chapter
Nineteen
Between a Berserker and a Hard Place: Finding the Least Worst Option
–HOW TO TRAIN YOUR BERSERKER
By Elizabeth “Elle” Darcy-Bruce
As those threatening words against my berserker rang in my head, Valkara—my supposed mother—pulled the pin on a dozen rage-grenades. Viktor was not hers. His turul wasn’t hers, either. Not ever again.
She tsk-tsked, not the least bit frightened by my pending berserkerage. “Better keep yourself under control, daughter. Harm me, and both you and your sister will pay a terrible price.”
“Too bad for you, complying with my enemy isn’t in my wheelhouse,” I retorted, but I didn’t attack. Any second, Viktor and Bodi would blaze into this chamber. No way Deco and his band of shifters could overcome the royal brothers.
“Don’t think your firebrand will rush to your rescue,” Valkara stated.
“I don’t need rescue.” But backup would be nice. Viktor’s presence would ensure I didn’t kill someone I shouldn’t. “You can’t say the same.”
She lowered her chin. “You think so? Let me show you what I can do.”
A sharp pain cut through my head, and I grunted. In a split second, I lost sight of the world around me. A thick fog enveloped my brain, so much thicker than what I’d encountered in my dreams. My name whispered in a thousand distinct tones, becoming a scream. The sensation felt unsettling and foreign, yet somehow familiar. Sweat beaded on my brow, my nape, and my lower back.
I gripped my temples and tried to breathe. I couldn’t breathe. Come on, come on. My lungs burned. My thoughts raced, but went nowhere. My body moved without permission, but I wasn’t sure what it was doing. I couldn’t…I didn’t…
The whispers quieted, the fog vanished, and I blinked open my eyes, suddenly able to draw air into my nose. Noticing my surroundings, I frowned and spun. I occupied a seven-by-seven cell with three barred walls and a rocky back one. Inside was a cot draped with a ratty blanket, and two pairs of shackles. There was also a stained toilet. Hooks and shackles splattered with crimson hung from the ceiling. The floor bore dark, ominous stains, too. The oppressive air smelled of mold and hopelessness.
Small, grated windows allowed slivers of light into the cell block. Other cages stretched out beside mine. This must be Deco’s dungeon. Scratches marred the cold stone back wall. No, not scratches–tick marks. They tracked the number of days of confinement. Outside the cells, in an open area probably reserved for guards, two wooden chairs bracketed a vertical rack. Like, an actual rack. A medieval torture device.
Nearby it, a small wooden desk occupied a corner, a bank of screens above it displaying the interior of each cell, including mine. A jarring blend of state-of-the-art tech and ancient brutality. No sign of the primordials.
I made an obscene gesture at the camera. I must have walked in here on my own, and oh, the knowledge burned. Valkara won this round.
She emerged from the shadows and smiled at me from beyond the bars. My pulse raced with both fear and frustration. To lose control of my own body…
And this was what Viktor dealt with on the daily? No wonder he’d become feral! He’d been in a fight for his free will and deep down, he must have known it.
“Do not worry,” she said, withdrawing a dagger from a sheath at her waist, that smug smile still lighting her face. “Viktor will join us shortly. Be a good girl and convince him to kill you.”
Ha! “You’re the one who’s dreaming if you think that’s gonna happen.”
“If you don’t, your sister will die. Among others.”
A twist of the invisible blade in my gut. Mother Dearest had done exactly as I’d feared. I gripped and shook the bars. Now it was my turn to play the game. “You expect me to accept death on behalf of a woman I’ve known, what? Less than two minutes?”
“I do, and you will. For the greater good. That, my dear, is real. Allow me to show you the future awaiting us if Viktor fails to kill you.” She closed her eyes. Once again, a fog crept into my mind. This time, a scene opened up. A vision. In it, I stood in a forest, sobbing. Viktor, who looked as if he’d just witnessed the end of the world, held an unconscious, or dead, Juniper in his arms, both of them splattered with crimson.