Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Should I go ahead and plan your wedding now or wait till you accept the inevitable???
The dude’s got a good dowry, or whatever. You should see his treasure, sis. I collected the ingredients for the potion, as requested, but sweet fire! A boatload of awesomeness.
By the way, it’s nothing to worry about, so you know, definitely don’t worry, because I’ve got everything under control mostly, but um, three members of the council are missing, along with multiple soldiers, and Cedric won’t stop laughing hysterically. He claims they betrayed us and bailed. That Nyla and Lorik are hidden in Ashmorra, and the council works with them.
“What!” I burst out, halting. I punched in her number.
No answer.
Taron backtracked, evincing concern.
“More of my people have disappeared, and Lorik might be in my land working with my should-be-dead father’s should-be-dead wife and three members of my council.”
“That tracks. Lorik likes to make offers others can’t refuse.”
“Or my father is lying to me, hoping I’ll turn against the council. Maybe Lorik is sneaking in intruders.” Until learning of the rift cutter, I’d assumed there only existed one route in and out of a realm: the traveling stones. The very reason we kept them so heavily guarded. But Lorik, like Taron, could have found another means.
I texted the idea to Adelaide, along with orders.
Send out a small search party. Let the people know what’s going on. They are to report any shifter—or council member—sightings immediately. Activate every defense. I’ll be home first thing in the morning.
Playtime was over. Time to find that ingredient, break the bond, and deal with the kings attempting to topple my throne.
I stowed the phone and marched forward, taking the lead. A queen did not hesitate while her realm bled.
“You’re wearing your scary warrior face,” Taron said, catching up.
“This isn’t the time for compliments. My problems have multiplied during my absence, and most center on Nyla.” Her name escaped on a single, drawn-out, annoyed sigh.
“That name sounds familiar.” He snapped his fingers. “A former manticore-shifter who wed your father after he became the first dragon-shifter king. Long dead by now.”
His unsettling knowledge of the inner workings of dragonkind would have to be dealt in the future. “Maybe not so dead, as I said. According to my father, she’s like him. Deathless. And that means even if I root her out, I can’t kill her. He also insists she hides among us. If true, Lorik has her help, and that’s another guarantee.”
“A deathless woman who is part lion, part scorpion.” He threaded his fingers through mine. “We will find a way to expose her.”
The offer of aid shocked me. Mostly? It filled me with all kinds of dangerous longing. “You’re leaving Ashmorra as soon as the bond breaks,” I reminded us both. His absence would be for the best. Necessary. Though ja, even the thought sparked a clench of regret. But that was okay. Regret faded.
“Right.” His voice sounded as hollow as mine, and our hands dropped.
The forest thinned, and ahead the trees broke to reveal the realm known as the City of Bones. A burial ground for dragons of old. Huge skeletal remains had shaped the hills, their open mouths forming toothy entrances. The dirt beneath our feet crunched with shards of bone with each step. Wind threaded through the ribcages, a solemn and mournful whistle. Sunlight slanted through the bleached skulls, the air smelling of chalk and old ash. Even dragons feared this place.
“If I were a shifter, this is where I would put a secret rift,” Taron muttered with a shudder.
Agreed. I slowed by reflex and he did the same, matching my pace without any words spoken.
On the lookout, weapons ready, we made our way through the hollows, where Lament Stones were found. Except, there were no stones.
None. Null. Zero.
Not even a hint of the wild voxhound that used to guard them. The doglike beasts possessed an abundance of porcupine quills and an ability to parrot the sounds they heard in the creepiest, horror-movie worthy voices. I’d always wanted one for a pet.
Frustration battered me. “There’s a village a mile from here. Surely someone has a stone.” A sad place filled with dragons who hadn’t become wraithlings or shifters when they lost their firebrands, as so many chose to do. No, these had opted to live outside of polite society, taking care of the burial grounds and waiting until it was their time to go.
We set off, reaching Mourfall, the City of Cursed Bones, as the sun lowered beneath the horizon. “Just…let me do the talking.” If Taron were to enrage even one warrior, the others would break with rage as well. These were still my people, and I had no desire to fight them.
Taron inclined his head and slowed a half-step behind me. No argument. No negotiation. Close enough to intervene if needed, but far enough not to provoke. His trust caught me off guard. It mattered more than I cared to admit.