Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I blinked my eyes open and let the light wake me up. I felt a little hollow for some reason. I felt like something was missing. Maybe because I knew Nyfain would leave?
My animal rolled in my chest, trying to scratch her way to the surface. Her panic bled through.
Frowning, still bleary-eyed for some reason despite having slept through the night, I rolled onto my back. A soft cough came from next door, then another. Father was still hanging on.
I glanced at Nyfain as I sat up and stretched, careful not to make any noise. Then froze.
My animal scrabbled at me wildly. I shoved her down as a sick feeling curled in my gut. He was gone, the bed neatly made. There was no note. Maybe he’d just woken up before me and hadn’t wanted to disturb me.
Down the hall, I found Hannon at the kitchen table, wiping his bloodshot eyes as he held his steaming mug with a death grip. He sagged, looking as tired as I felt.
“Hey,” I said, catching Sable yawning on the couch. That was odd. Usually she was the first one up. “Have you guys seen Nyfain?”
“No. But I found his efforts from last night.” Hannon’s voice was flat, his eyes brimming with something I rarely saw in him—anger. “He wasn’t subtle.”
I shook my head. “He wasn’t subtle about what?”
“I didn’t clean up his ingredients. You’ll know what they mean.” He glanced beyond me to the kitchen and then held up the paper. “And then there is this.”
I grabbed the piece of paper. The message, written in a delicate scrawl, read: Someday you’ll forgive me. Don’t come after me; there’ll be no point. This is where our acquaintance ends. This is for the best.
There was a blank stretch of paper, as if he’d struggled for what to write next.
Remember, no cage can keep you for long. Find a way out, Finley, any way you can. You deserve to be free. Hopefully I’ll meet you in the next life when there isn’t so much standing between us. -N
That sick feeling churned in my gut. My animal roiled. It didn’t take a genius to know something was badly wrong. He’d clearly done something I wouldn’t like.
I’m not a nice guy. He’d said it once. He’d meant it a dozen times.
Breathing deeply, I padded to the kitchen to see what Hannon was talking about. The ingredients were out on the counter, clear as day. Valerian root, chamomile, and a few herbs I had in my garden that promoted deep sleep. I gave them to my father in a different recipe when the coughing got too bad.
Nyfain had effectively drugged us, and I hadn’t been the wiser because he’d chosen a collection of flavors designed to muddle the taste.
My animal kept pushing, desperate to be heard. I finally relented, opening a crack so we could communicate.
He’s gone, she said, and her panic infused me. I can’t feel his magic connecting us anymore. He cut us off.
“Finley, are your eyes glowing?” Sable said as her mouth dropped open. “Hannon, are her—”
I pushed Sable’s words to the back of my mind, focusing instead on a strange, dark hole deep inside of us.
He went back to the castle last night, I said. Obviously we wouldn’t be able to feel his power from here.
You don’t understand. Since that time we helped Hadriel, I’ve always had his dragon’s presence with me. I thought that meant we were working toward mating and just waiting for you idiots to get your shit together. It got stronger when he was here. And now it’s gone. He’s ripped it away. He’s broken the connection.
Why didn’t I know about the connection?
Because you’re dense? I don’t know. He basically blasted us with it. I accepted, and there we were.
That must’ve been what I’d thought was Nyfain’s power washing through me, sometimes held by my animal, sometimes pushed back. They’d been playing footsie for days, but I hadn’t realized it was anything permanent.
Except…she was saying it was no longer there. He’d severed it. He’d cut me out.
No, his dragon had. His dragon had apparently heard the things he’d said to me and chosen to walk away. Except animals didn’t care about social stuff. They didn’t care about kings and commoners. At least, mine didn’t.
Maybe the dragon of a prince understood things a little better.
“He’s gone,” I said flatly, not sure how to feel.
Memories flooded me. How many times had Nyfain told me what would happen if the curse was broken? Hadriel had hinted at it, too.
The demon king had killed the defenders of the kingdom. He’d killed anyone capable, for goddess’s sake. Anyone who could hold a sword or even just do their job well. Once the curse was broken, the demon king could kill Nyfain and move in. Nothing would stop him.