Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
For the last, Echo had suffered worse than him. No surprise that she was dead asleep in his arms—and had been since even before the poison wore off.
At the end, his cock hadn’t even been able to harden again. But his teeth and fangs had remained until he regained control of his body.
Echo had been right when she’d guessed the reason they’d appeared. Almost right. It had been a reaction to being helpless. But not because Bane needed to defend himself.
He’d been helpless to protect her. So his blood was set ablaze. Nothing could have stopped the change from overtaking him. And if some danger to Echo had appeared, Bane wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that the venom could burn through the poison freezing him in place.
Yet she believed that he loved her sister?
He couldn’t understand why she would. Unless she didn’t realize that he’d come to Tamas’s bedchamber with exactly the same purpose that Echo had—to claim a kingdom. She must think that he’d gone there to claim Sapphira herself.
Even though her sister was nice.
Echo thought that was the kind of woman Bane would fall in love with?
It was insulting. And ridiculous. So ridiculous that Bane might have questioned just how clever his bride really was…if he hadn’t witnessed how her parents had spoken to her.
They’d always taken Sapphira’s side. Since the day of their birth, they’d preferred Sapphira over Echo in every respect. And they’d treated Echo as a secret stain upon their royal house.
So of course she assumed that Bane would also prefer Sapphira.
That assumption was a familiar one from his own childhood. He’d assumed the same after seeing all the ways his father had preferred Tamas. For a long time, he’d believed everyone preferred Tamas.
And even when Bane had begun leading his own band of warriors, hadn’t he distrusted and disbelieved their loyalty? It had taken years for him to accept they were truly loyal to him.
So it might take years for Echo to accept that Bane wanted her.
It seemed an eternity. But it would be time well spent. He only needed patience…which, truthfully, he’d never had much of. And ever since being infected with the venom, he had even less patience than he’d been born with.
But Echo was worth the effort. She was worth everything.
The full moon was high when she began to stir in the cradle of his arms. A low groan hummed against his neck.
Not a groan of pleasure this time.
“Sore?” he asked quietly.
Her answer was a pained laugh. Then another groan as she attempted to stretch poison-stiffened limbs.
“Come.” Though he gave her little choice, carrying her as he was. Bane liked this method of courting very much. It always kept her close. “I know what you need.”
The same thing he needed. Though it was awkward with their hands still bound—for her turn, Bane stood outside the privy with his arm stretched through the gap in the door that she’d left ajar. His turn was easier. She waited just behind him as he pissed over the ship’s side. Together they washed their hands.
Then she paid special attention to scrubbing her lips.
She threw him a glare when he laughed. “None of my schemes have worked like they should.”
Bane had no complaints. “I’ve enjoyed the outcome of them all.”
He would have spoken to her then about Sapphira, but the growl of her stomach made a priority of food. Her hesitant steps told him how stiff and sore she still was, so he overrode her objections and carried her farther along the deck, where his warriors had gathered. Jorin saw them approaching, and the feast from their basket was laid out on a crate. Two small barrels served as seats.
Echo ate as hungrily and as silently as he did, mouths too full for talking. The low voices of the warriors in conversation were broken here and there by laughter, and by the creak and splash of the ship rolling through the water. Overhead, the summer sky was brilliant and clear.
His bride heaved a huge sigh when she eventually pushed away her plate, then lifted a mug of ale. She sipped from it, her dark eyes regarding the warriors one by one.
Quietly she asked, “Are many of your warriors also…?”
“Our warriors. You are their queen now.” And Bane knew what she asked—whether they had also been infected with the venom—but he had no name for it, either. Infected was not truly right. That seemed like a sickness. But it wasn’t. “And all of these warriors are.”
“Undying?”
“No,” he said grimly. “We can be killed.”
As too many of his warriors had been while battling the scourge. Even those warriors who burned with venom.
He was aware of the others falling silent—listening to their king and queen. Not just claws and fangs and strength, but better hearing, too.
“How does it happen? Were you bitten?”