Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
“I’m not hurt,” I told him.
Ash was in front of me in a heartbeat, his hand on my cheek. “It was not physical pain.”
My breath snagged. “This one-way-sensing-emotion thing is so damn annoying.”
“What…?” Ash’s eyes narrowed as he finally became aware of Callum’s body. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
“That’s what I was trying to figure out before you decided to show off,” I told him. “Well, before I did that to him anyway.”
Ash’s gaze swung back to mine, and his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “I know it cannot be him who caused that reaction.”
“It wasn’t,” Nektas interjected. “And you arrived at the perfect time. I was about to explain to her so-called mother who her daughter is.”
Eather swirled madly through Ash’s eyes, and his jaw hardened.
His gaze remained fastened to mine as he said, “Rise.”
I tensed because I knew that tone of voice.
Gowns whispered over marble, and feet shuffled as I touched his arm. “Ash.”
His thumb smoothed over my lower lip. “I love you.”
I opened my mouth, but he silenced me with a kiss. And, gods, he kissed me like a man coming out of a drought, sipping and savoring until I felt a bit weak in the knees. There was no reason for him to kiss me like that in front of everyone, including my mother. Not that I was complaining, but my face felt like it was on fire.
Ash lowered his hand and stepped back. He faced those now standing at the table. Poor Lady Faber looked like she might pass out again as she smoothed a trembling hand over her gray-streaked midnight hair.
Lady Faber need not worry, though. Ash was focused on my mother like a predator when they spotted their prey.
“Your daughter is brave. More courageous than most. She is loyal, even to those who do not deserve such,” Ash said, and his tone said he was talking about the present company as he stepped toward the table. Shadows peeled away from the corner of the lamplit chamber and gathered at Ash’s booted feet. “And she cares deeply for others, even for those who, yet again, are not deserving.”
Mother flinched.
“Your daughter cares deeply.” Ash’s low voice echoed throughout the chamber, bringing frost with it. “Even when doing so hurts her.”
My chest lurched. “It’s okay.”
“No, it is not.” Ash lifted a hand, and the table flipped high into the air, sending bowls and platters of food flying. It came back down, right on Callum. “Because none of those things has anything to do with who she has become.”
“Ash,” I said, stepping forward.
“Did any of them bow when you entered?” Ash asked.
“No,” Nektas answered with a smug smile before I could point out that I hadn’t given them time to or that there were far more important things to discuss.
“Perfect.” Shadows rose up Ash’s legs. “Bow.”
Everyone at the table began to lower themselves before him.
“Not to me,” Ash stopped them, swiping his arm toward me. “Bow to her, the One who is born of Blood and Ash, the Light and the Fire, and the Brightest Moon, the true Primal of Life and the Queen of the Gods and Common Man.”
“Oh, my gods,” whispered Marisol as she lowered herself to one knee, her mouth hanging open. Her parents did the same.
Everyone looked shocked. My mother couldn’t even move. But Ezra…
She smiled and shook her head as she lowered to her knee. “It makes sense,” she whispered, glancing at Marisol. Her eyes glistened as her gaze swung back to me.
“You do not bow?” Ash’s voice was like the crack of thunder that had torn through the room earlier. “Do I need to repeat myself for you to understand?”
“You do not.” My mother trembled, her throat working on a swallow. “I understood what you said. All of it.”
I stiffened, my back becoming as unbendable as an iron rod while my mother lowered herself to her knees. She bowed her head, blue jewels glittering in the mass of icy pinned curls.
I jerked as Ash shadowstepped to my mother’s side. “Ash.” I hurried forward. “Do not hurt her.”
He knelt at my mother’s side as smoky tendrils whipped inches from her cheek. “It is only by the grace of my wife that you live. I have told you that already,” he said as small bits of ice clung to the hem of her gown. “But I am willing to face her anger to ensure that your sharp tongue leaves no more cuts.” His head tilted. “Do you understand me?”
Trembling, my mother nodded.
“Ash,” I repeated. “That’s enough.”
The curve of his lips was achingly cold. “For now, it is.”
I opened my mouth, but Ash was suddenly in front of me. “Be angry with me later,” he requested, kissing me again. “I need to return.”
I wasn’t sure if I was all that angry. Still, I nodded. “Callum—”