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)
Adriel nodded. “I’ll fight this battle for you because I am yours and you are mine. I claim you, Juniper Tempest, and offer protection to you in all things.”.”
When Juniper pressed a kiss to her mouth, lips were wet with droplets, her heart felt whole again. Adriel pulled her tight, and the current drifted them out to the sea where they lost themselves in the pleasure and tranquility of this magical place. There was no fear, only hope. And as foreign as that concept might seem to both of them, they surrendered to it easily, like a warm, overdue welcome home.
CHAPTER 38
“Can’t sleep?”
Dane’s eyes jolted from the book to the door. “You startled me.”
“Sorry. Immortal habit.” Lazarus crossed the study and looked down at the desk where Dane had been hunched for hours. Pulling the old book across the leather surface, he turned the cover to read the spine. “You’re looking for information on the shadow-wolf?”
Dane sat back with a huff. “Unsuccessfully.”
“Their lore is very guarded. Even seasoned immortals cannot enter the mind of a shadow-wolf unless welcomed in. And there is no hope for reading them once in wolf form.”
“All these rules,” Dane grumbled, picking at his fingernail. “Everything’s so absolute until it’s not.”
“Life is full of exceptions, son.”
He sagged in defeat. “And never good ones.”
Lazarus lowered into the wingback chair across from the desk. “Don’t shortchange yourself. You’re still young. Others would be foolish to underestimate you.”
“Because I’m draugr?” He turned his face in shame. “I hate that he’s still a part of me.”
“We all come from something, Dane. No one gets to choose. But understanding our genealogy can unlock many secrets.”
“Like what a monster I am—”
“Enough,” Lazarus snapped, surprising Dane. “We’re all capable of becoming monsters. It’s our self-control that determines the outcome more than anything else—including whatever our DNA claims. You’ve only just become a man. Give yourself time to unravel what that means.”
“It means nothing.”
“Doesn’t it? You have a half-brother.”
“So?”
“Christian is also part draugr.”
“Yeah, and he’s a total asshole. Now, I see why.”
Lazarus cocked a brow, looking unimpressed. “Trust me when I tell you, Dane, the draugen are often haunted by the past. They get lost in it and miss lifetimes of everything the present world offers. You can either dwell on the unchangeable or put your energy elsewhere. If you don’t like the destiny you’ve been dealt, why don’t you work on designing a better future for yourself. No one is stopping you.”
“I know you’re right.” He couldn’t work through the anger pumping inside of him. He felt like there was a hurricane under his skin.
Lazarus moved to the wall covered in bookshelves and searched the spines. “There is one story you might want to read.”
Sliding an old book free, he blew the dust off the cover. The spine creaked when he opened it and the pages ruffled like dry leaves in an autumn breeze.
“We don’t know much about the shadow-wolves, but we do know how they came to be.” Lazarus set the book onto the desk.
The aged parchment made the tome especially thick, but there was very little to it. The cover was black and oiled with strange engravings burned into the leather. “What language is this?”
“Old Norse. It was once the language of Europe.”
Dane pulled it closer. A painting of a bright red leaf filled the first page. “What does this say?"
Lazarus glanced at the inscription and read, “When the gods created man, they also created war.”
Dane turned the page. Another crude, glyph-like illustration. This one in brown ink and depicting men fighting with spears and bows. He didn’t have to read the words for Dane to follow the story.
Men were apparently fighting in many wars, which angered the gods. A great light resembling biblical depictions of the Holy Spirit approached an older man and a young boy and gifted them magical fur pelts, which they donned as cloaks. They were then transformed into enormous wolves. The gods wanted the wars to end. The wolves defeated the armies as the book illustrated in great carnage.
Dane turned the page. “Is this his son?”
“Yes.”
Red ink bled across the parchment. The boy lay amongst the forest trees, wounded, as the father stole the pelts.
“He killed his son?”
“Lupine comes from the Latin word lupus, which means wolf. Shadow-wolves are a rare primordial breed, but at their core, they’re dogs—loyal to the hand that feeds them but hounds at the heart. They possess a wild magick, very different from the sort witches and sorcerers practice. It comes from the ancient gods rather than nature. Sacrifice is at the core.”
Dane turned the page. A black bird gifted the boy with a red leaf pinched between his beak. “I don’t understand.”
“The raven is offering an exchange—the boy’s life for that of another.”
“The father’s?”
Lazarus nodded. “The gods bestowed power in exchange for peace. The father abused that power and created havoc.”