Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
I don't miss the way he keeps watching me, either. He's not being honest. At least, not entirely. The Fae may have asked him to watch me, and he may be willing to die to protect the Valkyrie. But that's not why he follows me like he does. It's not why he ignores me the way he does, either. That's something else.
I see it in his eyes. Even now, it glints there, burning bright. It almost looks like…regret mixed with longing? I'm not sure but seeing it glowing in his eyes makes my chest ache.
"You'd die for me, but you won't even talk to me."
"And that bothers you, princess?"
"Stop calling me that."
"Why?"
"I'm not a princess. That's Marion." She's literal Fae royalty. I'm just a girl from Seattle who happens to be a Valkyrie.
Stephan's lips twitch again. "You're Valkyrie, Kara. That's as close to royalty as you can get in this world." Something flickers in his gaze, his stance shifting as if he's uncomfortable. "You even look like a dainty little princess."
I snort. Loudly. There is nothing dainty or little about me. I'm short, yes. But I've also got more curves than I know what to do with. Growing up, I got teased about my weight a lot. Kids called me Karavan when they wanted to be particularly mean, and said it was because I was the size of a van. I've grown into my body since then, but I'll never be skinny or dainty.
"Maybe you need glasses," I mutter.
Stephan's brows wing together, his lips pulling down into a frown. "I don't need glasses, Valkyrie," he growls at me. "My eyes work just fine." He takes a step toward me. "Perhaps you're the one who doesn't see clearly."
"I see just fine," I mutter.
"Do you?" He takes another step in my direction. He's angry. Fury actually blazes in his eyes, like I've royally pissed him off. Lovely. "Who made you insecure, princess? Tell me."
"No one," I lie.
A warning growl rumbles in the back of his throat. "Tell me what warrior it was, and he'll never say another word to you."
"Like you don't?" I challenge. "No, thanks. The silent treatment from you is more than enough. I don't need it from the Fae, too. Besides, they've never said a bad word about me."
He stops moving toward me, seeming surprised. "You think I'm giving you the silent treatment?"
"This is the most you've spoken to me since we met, Stephan." I throw my hands up, exasperated. "You usually follow behind me, hiding in the shadows just to avoid speaking to me."
"Is that what you think?"
"It's what you do!" I cry, and then grimace when my voice echoes around us, hovering for a protracted moment high up in the branches.
"I hurt your feelings," he says after a moment.
"No," I lie, avoiding his gaze. It's true, though. As much as I hate to admit it, it does hurt my feelings that he won't talk to me. I'm…wildly attracted to him. Perhaps a little too attracted to him. "Maybe I don't like feeling like a chore."
"Guarding you could never be a chore, princess. It's an honor. You're Valkyrie."
I roll my eyes, irritated all over again. He says it like I'm a foreign species. Everyone around here acts like I'm a foreign species. I miss being Kara, the weird girl with no friends. "You know what? Never mind. Just go back to hiding in the shadows, and I'll go back to pretending I don't see you doing it."
"Kara, wait." He grabs my arm as I stomp past him, and Light surges through me in a fiery nimbus, crackling like energy.
I cry out softly, stunned at how different it feels than normal. This is pure liquid fire surging through my veins, setting me ablaze. For a split second, it's almost like I feel him in my mind, settling into place there. Desire pulses like a vein of gold between us, bright and hot.
"Fuck," he growls, releasing me as if he feels it too.
I stumble back a step, staring at him in shock as the feeling immediately vanishes. My heart pounds, confusion swirling through me. Whatever that was, I didn't call it. I don't think he is, either. It just happened. "W-what was that?"
"An impossibility," he says, and then clenches his jaw as if to keep himself from saying anything further.
As if I'm going to be satisfied with that answer. I narrow my eyes on him, prepared to demand an explanation—one that doesn't suck. But as soon as I open my mouth, a ripple of…sensation reaches me, like a soft brush against my mind.
This one is all too familiar. I've felt some version of it my entire life.
When I was younger, I thought everyone did. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that wasn't the case, and animals didn't speak to everyone. They just spoke to me.