Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
"Is that a promise?" I ask, matching his boldness despite the hammering of my heart.
His answering smile is slow and absolutely delicious.
31
I'm running through marble halls toward a scream that freezes my blood and shatters something inside me. It's my sister's voice, warped into something no human throat should produce. A sound of pure terror and agony that rips my heart into shreds.
The hallway seems to stretch on endlessly. Guards lie crumpled against the walls, their armor dented, blood pooling beneath them. The scents of copper and smoke are so strong I start to gag as I keep racing toward that sound.
I should be bigger. Stronger. Faster. More prepared. Maybe then I could do something to stop all of this.
"Mother! Guards! Someone!" I call, but there's no answer. Just another scream from behind a heavy door at the end of the corridor.
As I reach it, tendrils of black smoke curl from beneath. Heat radiates through the wood, the metal handle glowing red. I reach for it anyway, my hand hovering inches away when the door explodes outward in a blast of fire and—
I wake with a gasp, heart hammering against my ribs. For a moment, I'm disoriented, the smell of smoke and blood still so vivid I expect to find the room ablaze and covered in gore. Instead, I'm greeted by cool morning light filtering through a window in the fire affinity tower.
Raith's quarters. I’m still here. Still recovering three days after the siphon attack that nearly killed us both.
I've hardly spent a full day conscious in his room, but it already feels safer than my own. Realizing where I am is a relief, like warm, comfortable sheets wrapping around me in a protective cocoon. I want to curl deeper into his bed and drift back to sleep.
"Another vision?" Typhon asks, his diminished form curled at the foot of the bed. He's still only slightly larger than a housecat, his normally vibrant blue scales dulled to a muted slate.
"I don't know what they are," I admit, pushing damp hair from my forehead. "They feel like memories, but not mine." Deep down, some part of me does know now. Some part of me suspects, but the horror of those dreams makes me not want to believe.
Despite the call of sleep, I sit up in bed and look around the room for Raith. But he's not here.
Without him magnetizing my attention, I notice details about the room I've missed until now. A basin of fresh water by the bedside table. A set of clean clothes and underwear folded neatly at the foot of the bed that look like they've been brought from my own room. A plate with bread and fruit beneath a cloth.
I test my limbs carefully. The bone-deep exhaustion has lifted somewhat, replaced by a dull ache and lingering weakness. Still, it's progress from yesterday. My body is purging the last of the void magic I cleansed from Raith. Other than the occasional flash of cold sweeping across me, I think the worst of it has nearly passed already.
"You heal quickly," Typhon observes. "Another benefit of your unbound nature, I suspect. Or perhaps it's because of your unique manifestation."
"Or maybe it's just spite," I mutter, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "Too stubborn to stay down."
"Spite is an undervalued motivator," Typhon agrees. “If not for spite, I may have let the madness fully take me long ago. The call to submit… it is deep and terrible. I fear there could be nothing left in the other ancients if you eventually cleanse them.”
I frown. As much as I want to help them, the idea of facing more gigantic murderous elementals feels like more than I can fit on my plate at the moment. Problems for another day, maybe.
I reach for the water, drinking deeply. The cool liquid soothes my throat, washing away the last remnants of the nightmare. Or vision. Or whatever it was. The memory of the scream lingers, raising goosebumps along my arms despite the room's comfortable temperature.
The door opens, and Raith enters, carrying more food and a stack of books under one arm. His eyes immediately find mine, relief flashing across his features before he schools his expression into something more neutral. I see disapproval when he notices the still-full basket of fruit and bread by the bed.
"You should be eating. You need to regain your strength."
"I just woke up."
He nods, though he still doesn't seem pleased as he sets down his books on the desk. He sets down the second basket of food beside the first and gestures. "Eat."
"I'm not really hungry."
"I don't remember asking. You need to eat."
Reluctantly, I pluck a few grapes from the basket and pop one into my mouth, chewing. "Happy?"
"I'll be happy when you finish everything I brought." He moves around the room with practiced efficiency, but I notice the way his gaze keeps returning to me, as if he's afraid I might injure myself while reclining in his bed and reaching for occasional bites of food.