Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
The magic surrounding her disappeared, and she sat up slowly, tilting her head up to offer him a look of loathing. His eyes were dancing, shining brightly, like Daisy fighting for her life had all been one big joke.
“You really do help me make a statement,” he said in a murmur, reaching down.
“I have no interest in helping you make a statement.”
Daisy’s teeth ground together, her expression displaying utter disgust at Tarian’s obvious amusement. He hadn’t been betraying her; he’d been once again playing games. He’d been using her for his entertainment, or maybe just showing his people what she was capable of. Because they were his people. That was obvious now. Not buyers or traders, but part of his outfit. He’d never intended to give her up, but to have a little fun as they integrated into this next faction.
And she’d fallen for it, hook, line, and fucking sinker.
“All the same,” he said. “Here, take my hand. The station is not far away. There’s food there. And rest. And healing ointments that everyone will now be needing. You almost killed one of my Fallen.” He said the last word in a strange accent, almost as though it were a name and not meant to be translated by her blood gift. “I had to freeze the sword you threw in midair. Good aim. Perfect rotation. It’s not a magical sword, but it almost seemed like it was…and on your side. Like this clever little knife here.” He studied it for a moment. “It likes you better than me. Imagine that. And all the fun times we’ve had.”
She shook her head, really fucking annoyed, not least because she’d known that moment of hurt when he first began the trick. She was an idiot, and he’d proven it. Zorn would slap her silly, and rightfully so.
Images and words and emotions tumbled through her mind from his point of view, starting from when she’d noticed the strangers’ presence until right before Tarian limped over to collect her. These guys were part of his Starwardens, whatever that meant. Four of ten total, they’d been sent out to look for him. The other six were back at the station, like the one they’d stayed in last night, only much bigger. They were all waiting for him. Worried about him.
“Well, bully for you,” she groused. “Someone gives a shit about your wellbeing.”
There was no denying it, though. She felt their concern. Their closeness to him. They’d known each other for a long time. Since they were kids, if she had to guess.
She saw what she looked like through their eyes, all four. In summary, not much. Scrawny, one thought. Scared, thought another. Weak, pitiful. They didn’t seem to notice her filthy hair or the dirt streaking her face. Her pants caked with filth or her bra kinda loose and ill-fitting, on a little lopsided. They might not have noticed, but she did. She scrubbed at her face immediately.
“You don’t care that they think so little of your prowess, but you do care about the dirt you collected while trying to stay alive?” Tarian asked, amused.
“My greatest strength is being underestimated,” she replied. “I’d much rather do that while looking good. I look an absolute mess.”
“You are very vain.”
“Like you can talk.”
“I can talk, yes. I, too, am very vain. Takes one to know one, as they say.”
She took his hand and let him pull her up as the rest of the memories tumbled through.
Can she actually use the knife, or is it just to communicate? Mr. Pitiful asked.
Do all humans look that frail? Mr. Weak asked. I could snap her in half. How have you even kept her alive?
Tarian’s plan had been simple: threaten her and watch her dance. He’d been trying to show off her skills, for whatever reason. He’d manipulated her into looking like a fool.
“Not even remotely,” he whispered, pulling her in close until their energy buzzed between them. Their chemistry set her to vibrating.
The next point of view was just in his eyes, in those vibrant colors, watching her twirl and spin. Dance like a sprite. Like a wild thing. Beauty in motion. She felt the glow of his pride. His smugness at what she could do. He thought she was magnificent, and he wanted to show her off to his people. His toy was a rare and beautiful sight.
She shoved that sentiment away. Fool her once…
“And I assume this means you aren’t selling me.” She pushed away from him.
“There is not enough gold in all the kingdoms.” He held out her knife. “I want to make a deal with you.”
“I don’t make deals with fae.” She paused. “Except for the kissing thing, but you were cheating.”
He shook the knife a little. “You will need this. In the wylds and beyond, you will want a way to protect yourself. I want to allow you that freedom. But…I can’t have you killing my Fallen. I know you will try. There are but ten unloved.” There it was again, that deep accent. “They are all I have. They are all you have. They are my protection, and because of that, they are yours. I will ensure you have plenty of enemies to kill. You’ll get as much blood as you desire. Just spare their lives. They are innocent in this, just as you are. I am the villain here. Ultimately, if you should kill me, that will be the end of it. You can try killing me as often as you like. I do so love the game. Aim for me, not for them.”