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)
“Wow. Is execution always your go-to remedy? I prefer to use my master KEY. Keep Educating Yourself.” I firmly believed there was a solution to every problem; I had only to find it. Ask questions. Read books. Meet new people. Repeat.
“The girl,” he continued. “Is she as clueless as she seems? Why send her specifically?” Pause. “Nem, nem.” Longer pause. “Nem! She’s everything I despise. Not the kind of female I desire at my side for any length of time. You are.”
My spine stiffened. How dare he. He didn’t even know me. “You aren’t exactly a prize yourself, mister.” Dang. Only a three on the burn scale of insults. I could do better. “You’re like a cloud. When you disappear, I have brighter days.” Not terrible.
Viktor pulled his hair, pounded his fists into his temples, and muttered, “Answer me! What if she’s lying? Or being used in a way she doesn’t understand?” More hair pulling. “Should I sacrifice her now instead of later?”
Sacrifice me? My fight reflex buzzed, rallying a thousand inner defenses.
Viktor whizzed to me before I could run, dust flying around us. With my chin tucked between his thumb and a knuckle, he forced my gaze to lock with his. “What are you hiding?”
Lots of things. Maybe if I ignored his question the way he ignored mine, he’d forget the whole sacrifice thing. “You’re giving me whiplash,” I grumbled.
“What. Are. You. Hiding.” A second voice joined his, and it was even more gravelly, turning his timbre into a nightmare of aggression. “How did you make the fog thin?”
His confused expression, paired with that jagged, iron-edged tone, ignited something in me. Not fear, but swagger. I didn’t tamp it down as I’d always done with Benjamin. Heck, with everyone. No, I went with it, wrenching free of Viktor’s grip and stalking a slow circle around him, exactly as he’d done to me earlier. And I liked it. A sense of power dulled the constant sensation of being trapped in the wrong skin.
At roughly six-five, the man towered over me. He also owned muscles galore and rocked lightning-fast reflexes. But he let me do this without complaint.
“Listen and listen well. I don’t know a thing about any fog.” I stopped in front of him and jutted my chin. “If you’re working together with Malachi to trick me into believing berserkers are real, you’re going to fail. Let me go.”
“Nem. But allow me to assure you, drága.” Viktor lowered his head. Rings of neon gold flashed in his eyes, and veins of black flickered directly under his skin, forking like lightning. “Berserkers are very real, and we do not appreciate being challenged.”
In a split second, his body seemed to double in size. His facial features sharpened, and his teeth elongated. A prickle of unfamiliar, icy fear raced through my veins. Malachi had told the truth. Berserkers were real, and Viktor might be entering into a rage right this second.
Moisture flooded my mouth, but I couldn’t swallow. Years of absorbing my mother’s stories paid off, certain details dominating my thoughts. The dos and don’ts of keeping a rage machine calm.
Do not provoke.
Do not stare.
Never, ever run.
However possible, soothe the beast and get the heck out of Dodge.
“Good boy,” I rasped, reaching out to pet Viktor’s chest awkwardly. Oh, wow. Amazing how hard muscles could feel so soft, covered by such smooth skin. What I couldn’t do? Look away.
He glanced at my fingers, then my face, then my fingers, then my face, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.
I couldn’t either! Had I really just admired him? Pet him? I snatched back my hand. To my surprise, he didn’t issue a rebuke, but calmed. Seconds bled together, his breathing evening out. Good, that was good. He “shrank” to his regular massive size, his features projecting confusion rather than anger. The golden rings faded from his irises, and his pearly whites returned to normal.
Thank goodness. Danger averted. Except, I must be in the middle of an adrenaline crash. A cold sweat chilled my skin, and my teeth chattered.
“We should take a time-out.” I needed to sit and work on drawing in a deep, calming breath. Needed to think. Organize the thousands of queries swirling inside my head and forcibly bottle my emotions.
But mmm, what was that amazing smell? I darted my gaze and noticed a picnic setup at the edge of his camp, beyond a fallen log, with food spread out over a blanket. A feast fit for a king. My bottomless stomach rumbled.
“Or a meal break,” I suggested with hope.
“Eat,” my companion snapped. “My men will be grateful someone has finally enjoyed their efforts.”
Don’t mind if I do. I shuffled over and settled at the edge of the blanket, where I filled the only waiting plate with fresh fruit, slices of rustic rye bread, smoked cheeses and meat crepes topped with paprika sauce. “So you have men.” Good to know. “Where are they?” I’d seen no evidence of others.