Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Shit.
I glance over at Garrick, who looks back at me like I’m the one supposed to do something.
“Let him kill the prince,” Andarna suggests, and I hear her halter jingle about twenty feet behind me. “He does not represent us well.”
“He will not be a problem,” Tairn assures us.
If only I felt half as certain.
“Well, we’re off to a great start,” Drake notes, sauntering by on his way to the line of gryphons, where the other fliers wait in the heavy fog. I can barely see their shapes from here.
“Get out of my face,” Halden orders.
“Must kill you that you can’t make me.” A corner of Xaden’s mouth rises. “Why don’t you scurry into your little basket?”
“Fuck off.” Halden’s cheeks redden, but he retreats a single step.
“I honestly don’t care if you kill him,” I say to Xaden down the bond, “but you will. Wasn’t that your line when I nearly took off Cat’s head in Aretia?”
“He’s going to get you killed,” Xaden retorts. “This isn’t going to work.”
“I’m not dying on Halden’s account.”
Ridoc walks out of the fog from my left, takes one look at Halden and Xaden, and makes a beeline for my side. “Kind of feels like Threshing, doesn’t it? Exciting. Terrifying. We know we have to go, but there’s every chance we’re about to have our asses handed to us.”
“I did not enjoy flying straight through to Athebyne,” Halden announces into the fog. “We’ll only fly halfway today—”
Fog swirls with the beat of another pair of wings, and the ground shudders as a dragon lands to the left, just behind Ridoc.
Halden gawks and stumbles backward.
The fog obscures all but the outline of claws until the dragon lowers his blue snout to ground level and chuffs a deep breath in Halden’s direction.
What the fuck is Molvic…
My stomach lurches.
“I told you the firstborn would not be an issue,” Tairn reminds me.
“Molvic?” Ridoc leans forward slightly, like there’s any mistaking the scar that runs across the Blue Clubtail’s snout.
“No!” I roll my shoulders, drop my pack, and run past Xaden and Halden, straight into the fog. “Don’t do this!” I make it less than thirty feet before I find him walking toward us at Dain’s side.
“I’m not going to sit aside and watch while Halden gets you all killed,” Aaric says, tugging the strap of his rucksack to tighten it. For Dunne’s sake, he doesn’t even have a battle-ready flight jacket.
“This isn’t what you want,” I remind him. “Don’t let your brother’s actions force your hand”—I swing a pointing finger at Dain—“and don’t you let him do it!”
Dain puts both hands up, palms outward at his chest. “How in all that’s holy am I to blame for this?”
I fumble for an answer. “He’s a first-year and you’re the wingleader!”
Dain rubs the bridge of his nose and pushes his fingers outward, over the heavy, dark circles under his eyes. “Vi, I think he outranks me in this department.”
“You sure you want to do this?” Xaden asks, so close I can suddenly feel the warmth of him at my back.
“Want? No.” Aaric shakes his head. “But I need to. And as much as I don’t mind Halden making your life fucking miserable, I do mind him condemning the Continent to death by dark wielder because he can’t take a deep breath and count to three when he gets mad.”
“Sounds great to me.” Xaden’s hand brushes the small of my back. “You good with this?” He glances my way.
I study the set of Aaric’s chin and the determination in his green eyes, then nod in defeat. “We’re all allowed to make our own choices, and if this is yours, I’ll support it.”
Aaric nods, and Xaden and I fall into step with him and Dain, heading for our dragons…and Halden.
“Looks like you won’t be needing that basket after all,” Xaden says as we make it back to where Mira waits with Ridoc, Garrick, and Halden. “We found ourselves another prince.”
Halden’s jaw hits the ground as his widened gaze locks on his little brother.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Aaric says in greeting.
“Don’t look…” Halden shakes his head slowly. “You’ve let us run all over this kingdom searching brothels and gaming houses for you, and all the while, you’ve been here?”
“The fact that you went searching your favorite haunts for me is just the start of where you went wrong,” Aaric replies.
“You’re a rider?” Halden shouts.
“As the dragon would imply.” Ridoc points to Molvic.
“He could have let you think he was dead,” Mira mutters.
“He’s going to be when our father hears—” Halden starts.
“Fuck off and tell him.” Aaric shrugs. “Or don’t. I really don’t care. I crossed the parapet because I was sick of sitting by knowing you and Dad weren’t going to do shit about the dark wielders, and I’m not going to sit by now and watch you run our only hope into the ground. I’ll be going as the royal representative.”