Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Lazarus’s acceptance was the hardest to swallow. He was not like the others. He was modern and a free thinker. The moment Dane lost his support, he knew he was on his own.
“Grace, you do not need to go with this guy.”
Regret flashed in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dane, but it’s true. I cannot read him, but I sense that I’ve seen him before. Something pulled me here. At first, I needed to protect you. But now… Perhaps it was the calling guiding me all along.” Her eyes welled as she looked up at the shadow-wolf towering over her. “My soul recognizes yours, Darius Størm.”
“And mine recognizes yours, min pärla.”
Seething, Dane glared at the two of them. “He’s a stranger to you!”
“Not for long.” The promise in those cold green eyes would haunt him forever. He’d barely touched her, yet his claim was clear.
“This is what you choose?” he turned his anger on Grace. “Say it! Tell me you choose this dog over everything else, Grace. Your family. Your life. You don’t realize what you’re saying!”
“I choose him.” Her whisper cleaved through him so fast he staggered back, sure he’d never feel whole again.
“Dane,” Lazarus’s call was lost behind the ringing in his skull.
“Fuck all of you!” He shoved past the others, turning his back on the lot of them.
The Bishop caught up to him the moment he made it outside. “Dane.” He caught his shoulders, stilling his escape. “This is her calling. You always knew it would be this way.”
“I never knew it would be this way. And neither did you, so I’d appreciate it if everyone stopped acting so goddamn calm like this is fucking normal!”
“I understand you’re angry and disappointed. But that doesn’t negate the fact that this is how it was always meant to be.”
He shook his head, emotion clogging his ravaged throat. “I’m so sick of this.”
The Bishop’s brow furrowed. “Let me help you. Take my blood—”
“I don’t want your fucking blood!” He shouldered out of his grip. “It’s just one more way to control the situation, so you can track me.”
“I only want to help you, Dane. You’re injured.”
“I don’t want your fucking help.” His jaw locked as he glared at Eleazar, no longer able to believe this man was a trustworthy friend. “You all have an agenda. You instill your bullshit rules on the females to keep them obedient to the men, so they trust you to protect them.” He pointed angrily at the cave. “Do you honestly feel like she’ll be safe with him?”
“He’s her mate, Dane.”
“He’s a fucking wolf, Eleazar! A wolf who cut a draugr in half with one swipe of his claw and ripped out his heart with the other!”
“And you should be grateful he did. Cerberus would have killed all of us—including Gracie, who should not have been here! Do not be so naive to think she followed you all this way. Grace has never ventured far from home. Something pulled her here. Only a calling could compel an immortal so strongly.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I do. Because I lived it. He will kill you as quickly as he ended Cerberus if you interfere in his destiny. We are alive because of him—because he saved us and because he permits us to live.”
“What if it was Larissa?”
A low growl vibrated from the Bishop’s chest. “You’re upset, so I’ll forgive you this one time for posing questions about my bonded mate, but if you ever suggest such a thing again, my kindness will end and you will meet a side of me you do not want to know. Gracie is going to leave with that shadow-wolf and you are going to let her. This is her calling, Dane. Your obsession with her has no basis for comparison. She has chosen to abide God’s will, and I will not let you stand in the way of her destiny.”
Seething with uncontainable rage, his eyes narrowed. “There is no fucking God.” He shoved past Eleazar with no intention of ever looking back.
Drifting toward the coast, he slipped on a muddy slope and winced as his injured body twisted painfully. He’d rinse the blood away in the frigid sea, then see what see to his own damn injuries. If he needed blood to heal, he’d hunt a fucking rabbit because nothing was getting him back up that hill.
Dabbing the back of his pounding head, disturbed by the warmth, Dane pulled his hand away and scowled at his blood-drenched his fingers. “Damn it.”
Dawn cast a golden glow over the water and birds started to sing. He was in the middle of fucking nowhere with no clue where the nearest hospital was. A gaping wound in his head, a severely bruised larynx, and probably a concussion—yeah, he was screwed.
“Dane.”
He spun, startled to find Lilias and Lazarus approaching. “Go away.”