Total pages in book: 219
Estimated words: 210867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 703(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 703(@300wpm)
There was a stale, sweet scent, and then a brief glimpse of a figure in black. Then a flash of something milky white, like polished bone, arced down.
I threw up my arm, blocking the swing before what turned out to be a really fucking sharp edge plummeted into my chest. My forearm connected with another as I jackknifed up, thrusting the assailant back.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I got a good look at the dark-haired fucker as I shot to my bare feet. I immediately knew at once what he was.
A Revenant.
And since they’d been all over the castle before thanks to the Blood Queen, they obviously didn’t need to be invited in.
The mask obscuring half his face gave what he was away. It was shaped like wings that reached to the shaggy hairline and swept down to his jaw on either side—deep gold, not red or black.
The pale-as-fuck, silver-blue eyes were a clue, too.
This had to be one of the ones Malik had said were still out there and would be a problem.
“You picked the wrong fucking chamber,” I warned, baring fangs.
“But I didn’t.” The Rev smirked. “You should’ve closed those windows.”
“Is that so?” I watched as the Rev edged to the side.
He nodded. “And perhaps been a little less arrogant in your belief that you were safe. That you won a war that hasn’t—”
“Even begun yet. I know.” Muscles coiled as my chin dipped, sending locks of hair across my forehead. “Can we skip this cliché-as-hell conversation and just get to the point where I make you wish you could die?”
The Rev’s laugh was low and as dry as bones. “How about we skip the conversation and get to the point where you die?”
I smiled. “And how are you going to do that? By talking me to death? Or with your little white knife?”
“White knife?” Another sandpaper laugh grated my skin. “This is a bone of the Ancients, you fucking idiot false Primal.”
The Rev came at me before I could even question why the fuck he’d called me that. I braced myself, my smile growing. “I always wanted to know how a Rev regrew a head. Guess I’m going to find out because I’m going to rip yours fucking off.”
He darted to the side about a foot from me. Anticipating the move, I laughed under my breath and spun, kicking out. I caught the Rev in the stomach. He skidded back onto one knee. Our eyes locked as I straightened.
Another glimpse of white appeared—a second dagger in his other hand. One side of the Rev’s lips curled up.
The cold press of unease hit my chest as the prickle at the nape of my neck gave off a warning. I heard Vikter’s voice as if he were standing right beside me, speaking the same words he had that morning in the training yard.
All it takes is a second for your enemy to gain the upper hand.
The Rev was shockingly fast, letting one of the daggers fly.
He didn’t throw it at me.
He’d gone for Poppy.
Nothing more than the length of a heartbeat given to either arrogance or vengeance to then lose all which truly matters.
It had been an omen then. A lesson Vikter had promised me I’d learn. One I still hadn’t.
Cursing, I jumped to the side faster than I ever had, tapping in to every bit of agility and speed I had in me. My fingers curled around the blade as I snagged it from the air—
I hissed in pain, my fingers spasming open reflexively. The dagger hit the floor as I landed in a crouch. Only a thin cut crossed my palm, but it wasn’t that which caused the stingy burn. It was the blade itself. It was scalding to the touch—hot enough that the skin around the cut on my palm smoked.
“What the fuck?” I rose, twisting at the waist.
Swinging out, I grabbed the Rev’s arm, but he twisted both of us with a burst of unnatural-as-fuck strength. He thrust his right arm out, hitting me in the chest—
Red-hot agony exploded as I careened backward, short-circuiting all my senses. My back hit the wall, and then I was on my ass, staring down at the iron hilt of a dagger embedded in my chest—in the same damn spot Poppy had gotten me in New Haven. Which had been a bit more than a nick of the heart.
Blood flowed from the wound, drenching my bare stomach, but my skin—fuck, I could feel it burning, peeling back from where the blade had penetrated. That pain. Fuck. I’d never felt anything like it before. My teeth gritted as it rippled through me.
The Rev spoke quietly as he bent, picking up the fallen dagger. “Bones of the Ancients. Sharper than bloodstone. Harder than shadowstone.” One golden wing lifted with his half smile. “And deadlier than both, able to kill a god with just a prick and incapacitate a Primal.”