Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
His grin was part humor, part grim fascination. There he and Poppy stood at the threshold of Raven’s Murk, staring at each other as more visitors sprang to life all around them and filed from the castle. “How many are under your control?”
“As many as there are nightmares.”
Then her power was colossal. “You saved me, love.” Rök had accepted his unspeakable fate. Now . . . his future with Poppy awaited once more.
“Just like you saved me all night. We’ll always save each other.” She stood on her toes, brimming with magic. “Kiss me.”
His gaze slid to the doll still perched on her shoulder.
Poppy told it, “Take care of our pawns.” When Annelise turned her head 180 degrees to focus on the action, Poppy teased him, “Is my creepy still cute?”
Nodding helplessly, he claimed her lips as monsters battled monsters and an ancient primordial fought to the death.
Rök tasted her power, as arousing as her fierce attitude. Despite the nightmares surrounding them, he got lost in that kiss.
Taking her mouth . . . promising himself . . . forever . . .
Forever.
Forever.
Dimly, he heard an echoing roar. When she drew back, he blinked to attention. “Poppy?”
“I can sense the scene through the visitors.” The primordial’s roar abruptly ended. “It’s done.”
“The other ghouls?”
“A few fled. The mother and kids were the first out. Should we pursue them?” Poppy asked, though her ability must be taking a toll. She was young, and she’d just eliminated the strongest ghoul in all the worlds!
Rök wrapped his arms around her. “Another day.”
CAWWWW! cried the raven for the fourth and final time.
The castle door slammed shut.
Then Rök traced his mate away from Raven’s Murk, never to return.
Poppy glanced around a rustic cabin filled with technology—monitors, computers, and communications gear. “Where are we? This place looks like a spy expert’s command center.” Sunlight flooded in through the cabin’s windows. Rök must’ve taken her far from the castle.
He released her. “You’re in my secret lair, tucked in the wilds of Iceland.”
She waved Annelise away, and the doll vanished. Poppy’s new ability would take some getting used to, but after tonight . . . she was a devout fan of the franchise. “Iceland? I thought demons liked warm weather.” She didn’t remark on the horn-sized gouges marring the walls and the pair of larger holes worn into the floor. Her poor anguished demon!
“Though most of us hanker for hellplanes, some of us see the appeal of snow. As long as there’s fire.” He crossed to a great hearth and tossed logs in. In moments, flames crackled, and he stood. “I bought this place with you in mind. But then I realized you would want to be close to your family.”
“And Newt.”
His lips curled. “And Newt. The humping cat.”
Grinning, she turned to the nearest window. In one direction, a snow-draped mountain loomed; in the other, an active lava flow meandered by like a river! She gave a laugh. “Let’s not be too hasty. This place is amazing.”
He joined her. “Witches gather on that snowy peak each year in pilgrimage. Between that and the smoke, I was sold.”
“Fire and ice, huh? Kind of like your fighting style.”
He inclined his head, but she could tell he was pleased. “Your own fighting style defies description. It was like you commandeered an army. Did you turn the curse back on itself?”
“There was never a curse.” She explained how her conduit worked. “Mariketa was right; the answer was in that magic-laden castle.” Poppy had just needed several helpings of incentive, seasoned with danger, and fired with a demon. “This ability is so unique and so under my control that I think . . . Rök, I think I’m a queen.” A mystical practitioner better at a particular skill than anyone else in the Lore.
“The witch queen of Halloween,” he said, beaming with pride.
The rightness of that title warmed her. “That’s me.” Why nightmares? she’d wondered. But then, how could some witches control storms? Or animals?
“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any sexier.” He cupped her face to kiss her.
“Wait.” She held up a forefinger. “I need to let my sisters know I’m okay.”
“Use my computer.” He traced over to log her in. “I’ll text Desh and make sure he remembers not to return for you.”
“Good idea.” She removed her bag and emailed a quick note: You bitches won’t believe what happened! Drinks on me! Oh, and Lea, we’re gonna throw hands. As Poppy hit send, she recalled something from the chaotic moments before. “Rök, did you happen to notice anything strange when we were kissing?”
He sent the text, then pocketed his phone. “You’ll have to be more specific. When I was about to take your lips, I’m pretty sure pumpkin-head gave me a thumbs-up with his stalk hand.”
Good point. “Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw . . .” She frowned, then shrugged off her concerns. “Probably a visitor I didn’t have a handle on, one bringing up the rear for protection.”