Total pages in book: 401
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 390373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1952(@200wpm)___ 1561(@250wpm)___ 1301(@300wpm)
Either way, I had a feeling neither a sword nor a wolven could stand against whatever was about to appear. Not when only two beings had enough eather to open the realm. The Arae, also known as the Fates.
And the oldest of the gods—the Primals.
“Delano,” I called, holding up a hand to Emil. “Stand down.”
The wolven reluctantly stepped back as a wave of tingling energy swept down my right arm. Eather swelled, pressing against my flesh.
The orb of eather lengthened, hissing and popping, and then the realm opened in a burst of silver radiance, filling the air with the scent of burnt ozone. The flash faded quickly, and where the opening of the realm had been, a male—maybe an inch or two taller than me—stood before us in black leather pants and a tunic. The strap of a small satchel crossed his broad chest. My gaze quickly swept over the light-brown hair framing a face…
My shoulders jerked as I saw the Primal god’s face. It wasn’t the shallow scar running from his hairline, over the bridge of his nose, and down his left cheek that had me standing there in stunned silence.
It was because of the sandy-brown hair, the strong jawline, and the sculpted mouth. The straight nose and high, angular cheekbones. The arched brows and tall, broad-shouldered, lean-waisted build. Which, all together, was damn near the mirror image of the man standing beside me.
My brother.
“What in the actual fuck?” Malik choked out.
I seconded that statement while glancing between my brother and the Primal god. The Primal looked back at us with precisely the same what-the-fuck expression that had to be plastered on our faces.
Emil bowed stiffly, reminding me I should probably be doing the same. The Primal was an old god. But Malik and I remained straight, too dumbfounded to do anything but stare.
“Uh…” Emil slowly straightened. “Am I seeing things, or am I looking at someone who looks eerily similar to you?” He glanced in Malik’s direction, then mine. “To both of you, actually.”
Emil was stating the obvious, but I couldn’t fault him for doing so. I kept staring at the Primal, trying to find the differences. His hair was a little shorter and wavier, more like mine.
But other than that?
It was like seeing Malik two or so decades older.
Or looking at a near twin of our father.
“If you’re seeing shit…” Malik muttered, arms lax at his sides.
“Then we all are,” I finished for him.
The Primal’s silver eyes shifted to me, and everything about him changed. It was brief—the flaring of his nostrils, the crease between his brows, and the tightening of his jaw—but I saw it before his gaze slid back to Malik. I didn’t pick up any emotion from him and didn’t know if that was because he was a Primal, he was shielding them, or it was a limit to my abilities. Still, I knew what that quick display of emotion was.
Pain.
And not the physical kind.
“He really could’ve warned me about this,” the Primal said under his breath, but I still heard the faint, melodic rhythm that was both familiar and utterly foreign at the same time. He looked at us. “Hello.”
I blinked, then stiffened as I saw that Delano had crept forward, his head lowered, and tail tucked close to his body. Before I could say shit, the Primal god extended his hand toward the wolven. Delano cautiously lifted his head and sniffed the outstretched hand.
A heartbeat passed, and then Delano pressed his muzzle against the Primal’s hand.
“Well,” Emil drawled. “I guess he’s got the Delano stamp of approval.”
One side of the Primal’s lips curled up, and, sure as shit, a dimple appeared.
My gaze locked with Malik’s. There was no way he wasn’t thinking what I was.
This Primal was of our bloodline.
It made sense. Elementals were directly descended from gods. But a Primal god?
Delano backed off and returned to my side as I felt a pulse of awareness in my chest. My hands fisted.
The Primal’s stare lifted, a slight frown pulling at his brows as he swept his gaze over the hall. He’d felt Kieran, even though no one else seemed to have even heard his approach yet—not even Delano. I filed that piece of information away as the others finally picked up on Kieran’s arrival.
A second later, he burst into the shadowy hall, his chest rising and falling quickly.
My jaw clenched as I opened my senses, linking my mind to his. Did you forget what I said?
His pace didn’t change. I know what you said.
And?
As he drew closer, I saw that the bruises were gone. Good for him.
This isn’t about us, came his response.
I shut myself off from him before he could say more. My nostrils flared as I inhaled deeply. He was right. This wasn’t about us.
Kieran’s steps slowed as he caught sight of our odd-as-shit group. “I felt…” He trailed off as his gaze darted back to the Primal. His brows snapped together, and his stare shot toward Malik. “What the…?”