Lethal Souls (The Tether #3) Read Online Shanora Williams

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Tether Series by Shanora Williams
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
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Hassha stares back at me with a smug smile.

“Did I not tell you training would begin now?” she quips.

“This isn’t the time for training,” I grumble.

“There is no proper time, Caspian. You learn it now, while under pressure, or you don’t learn at all. Stop blocking him and let him come to you. He wants to live through you, but he can’t do that if you continue to suppress him.”

I release her wrist and step back.

“Uh, Caz?”

I point my gaze to Rowan at my side, but he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Alora’s palace.

From here, I immediately notice what’s out of the ordinary. Hanging from the side of the palace are six bodies dangling from rope.

All of them are similar to Selah’s creatures that just attacked Blackwater.

FIFTY-FIVE

CAZ

We hike the grand staircase of the palace and don’t stop until we’ve reached the top.

Several guards stand before the entrances fully armored. When they spot us, they immediately withdraw their weapons and rush our way with fierce battle cries.

“It’s Monarch Harlow of Blackwater!” I yell, raising a hand before they can swing at us.

Their shouting stops and they come to a halt, their weapons still raised.

“I’m here to see Alora,” I say, panting.

A familiar man emerges from the group of guards, a thick braid hanging over his shoulder and a scythe in his hand. His brows are heavily stitched together, and his nostrils flare as he scans me.

Proll, Alora’s first guard.

He studies my clan but lingers on Hassha, looking her up and down in her cloak and armor. I expect him to ask who she is, but he doesn’t seem to care about that right now.

“Alora is about to address the people about the attacks,” Proll says, his voice anything but welcoming. He raises his scythe and presses the blade of it to the heart of my shirt. “You show up right after the attack happens, Monarch Harlow. Are you behind this?”

Rowan and Killian raise their guns and point them at Proll’s head. He looks between them, unphased.

“We like you, Proll, but you put even a scratch on our monarch and we will kill you,” Killian growls, pressing his thumb down on the hammer.

Proll side-eyes them, raising his chin and bringing his beard with it. Then he steps back and yanks his scythe away.

“As if I’d ever kill our closest ally,” Proll mutters.

“What attacks are you talking about?” I ask.

Proll looks past us to the people still clamoring at the gates. “I will let the queen explain. I can’t leave her for too long. Come.”

He turns before I can get another word in, and we follow him through the line of soldiers still glaring at us. Once we’re inside the palace and have reached the throne room, I see Alora standing in the center.

She’s not alone. Devlin is here as well as Whisper Grove’s monarch, Conan. Devlin I knew would be here because he had no place to go, but Conan must’ve taken the fast train to have gotten here so quickly.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Alora. We were told to meet you here,” I hear Conan say.

“And I was already on my way for refuge,” Devlin informs her. “We fought against those creatures you have hanging over your wall. We saw a bloody dragon. There was a Regal—Selah. She was sending those things to kill us until the other Regals stopped her.”

“Regals?” Alora repeats with a scowl. “Now I know you are lying to me, Monarch Devlin. Do you take me for a fool? The Regals are gone!”

“I know you aren’t a fool, and neither am I,” Devlin counters, clenching his teeth. “I know what I saw.”

“My queen.” Proll’s voice bellows through the room, and Alora whips her head to find him.

When she spots me, relief rinses over her. “Caspian. Tell me this isn’t true,” she says, hurrying our way. “Tell me these people are mad or that the youthwater is contaminated and that those creatures my men put down are nothing more than brutes in masks.”

“It’s all true, Alora.”

Her face pales as she looks me over, searching my thoughts. “I can’t read you. Why can I no longer read you?” she asks.

I sigh.

“Explain everything, Caspian. Now,” she demands.

I tell her about The Regals, even down to Yuri (though I don’t explain my abilities). I speak about the dragon and the attack in Blackwater. As the words pour out, Alora stares at me as if I’ve lost my head.

“You must be mad too,” she breathes. “The Regals are long gone—and who is Yuri? I’ve never heard of a fourth Regal, and I’ve studied them for years. I’ve studied all of Vakeeli history so much I could recite it.”

“Everything you think you know about Vakeeli is a lie, Alora,” I say. “It was all fabricated by the historians. Just people trying to make sense of something that was never meant to make sense.”


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