Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
He quickened his pace. The cuff continued to heat, nearly blistering him. Closer...
A limb snapped up ahead, and his ears twitched. Toward the left. He adjusted his route and pumped his arms. His legs gobbled the distance. Eyes scanning...
There! Sunlight streamed through a canopy of tangled branches, illuminating tendrils of red. A hot blaze of satisfaction overtook every inch of him.
Vee sprinted as fast as her feet would carry her, but he gained ground fast, closing in.
Sensing him, his treacherous wife cast a panicked glance over her shoulder and yelped.
Almost there... Micah sheathed his daggers, freeing his hands, and dived. Boom! They collided and hurled toward the ground. Midair, the sides of his cloak enveloped them, creating a world of their own for one brief moment. Warm softness registered, instantly dulling the worst of his rage. Finally! He had her.
At the last second, he acted without conscious thought, twisting to take the brunt of impact, saving her from bruises, scrapes and broken bones. Even still, air erupted from her lips. Then they were rolling over dirt and rocks and slamming into a huge tree.
She recovered quickly. All claws and teeth, she fought the shackles of his arms. As he healed, she popped to a stand.
As she turned, preparing to dash off—shoeless, he realized—he lunged from his supine position and clasped her ankle, yanking her off balance. She fell, and this time he wasn’t there to soften the landing. Another burst of air from her. Did this slow her? No. She attempted to scramble away. This time, he held firm.
Dousing all guilt, Micah flittered to a stand and hauled her to her feet. He wasn’t gentle about it.
“Do not run,” he snapped—and let her go.
Miracle of miracles, she obeyed, spinning to face him. “Why are you as cold as ice?” Glaring at him, puffing for breath, she snarled, “Never mind. I don’t care. Take this collar off me, you Neanderthal!”
Neanderthal? He raised his chin a notch. “The collar stays. And I’m cold because I took a forced trip to the Winterlands—where I found your precious ice beast.” The final words dripped with relish. “The one who savaged my guardian. The only parent I ever had.”
Pain contorted her features. “You murdered another of my children?” With a screech, she launched her body at him, clawing anywhere she could reach. “I’ll destroy everything you’ve ever loved and leave you with nothing but pain and misery. Only after you’ve suffered decades of agony will I sing your spine to life and command it to slither out of your body.”
The tears in his tunic spread, blood trickling from new wounds. Micah reeled as he struggled to subdue her. Had he ever seen a more shocking display of agony and outrage? Emotions she had no right to feel! She allowed her creations to murder his guardian and many of his citizens. She used his desire against him from the start, overseeing his destruction. She betrayed his trust.
Eventually, he pinned her against him, pressing her back to his chest. Arms wrapped around her middle, he held her hands together.
Panting and squirming, she refused to admit defeat. “I’ll remove your genitals and roast them on a spit! I’ll—”
“Enough. I didn’t kill your vicious abomination,” he grated against her ear. The reminder of his madness infuriated him—and every bit of that fury was directed at himself.
Why had he walked away without removing his longest foe’s head? He’d hunted it, planning to do precisely that. He’d even cornered the monster within its own cave. Finally, after centuries, he’d found Erwen’s killer. At long last, Micah had glimpsed a chance to eradicate a beast who had scarred him inside and out, like the trees.
“I don’t believe you,” Vee grated. “Why would you leave him alive?”
“He’s merely a vase. I’d rather destroy the clay responsible for it.”
She flinched as if he’d struck her, and guilt sparked. Guilt he shouldn’t feel.
At the time, he’d told himself he couldn’t waste a minute, that he must return to Grimm Forest as quickly as possible. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? He could have easily slain the belua and returned after.
“Go ahead and do it. Beat and kill me,” she demanded. Though she trembled, she sounded much calmer. “Or do I need to beg for each strike? You’ve tortured me with your presence long enough.”
So they’d reverted to commands for beatings. “Oh, little wife. You won’t be escaping my wrath so easily, I promise you.” Though he yearned to shake her, to kiss her, to slay her, he focused on the conversation—for the moment. “You see our marriage as an assurance of your survival, but you will learn better. Some things are worse than death and living inside a coffin might be one of them. Soon, you’ll know firsthand. I have a special room in my dungeon. When I designed it, I didn’t know who I would be cruel enough to leave there. Now, I do.”