Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Let’s take a vote,” Jago suggests, looking around with a smile. “All those in favor of us continuing Kymaris’s work, raise your hand.”
Jago’s arm makes it only halfway up before Amell says, in the deadliest tone I’ve ever heard, “This is not a democracy. Anyone whose arm goes up will meet the Crimson River.”
Jago’s arm falls to his lap, and he glares at Amell who stands and presses his palms on the table. “I’m only going to say this once, and if any of you disagree, you name the time and place, and we’ll battle it out for the throne. I am the sovereign ruler of the Underworld. It is my edict—not Zora’s—that we will not twist demons. It is my edict that we will not make any attempt to bring down the veil to storm the First Dimension. Anyone here with the power to rip their own door out is free to go and carry on as much destruction as desired. But I am not going to ever condone a large gateway to free everyone. Are we clear?”
Almost everyone around the table nods. Ariman and Jago don’t move a muscle, but Amell doesn’t call them out.
Instead, he resumes his seat and says, “That is all.”
Chairs scrape against the black marble floor as the fae exit. A few chat amiably as they leave. Ariman and Jago have their heads bent together in secret discussion.
The blue-tinged Dark Fae with the blond hair stays behind. Since I didn’t fill his cup before, I round the table to do so. When I reach him, he places his hand over the top and gives a slight shake of his head.
I take several steps back before heading to the side table to deposit the carafe. I then turn for the door.
“Stay,” Amell orders without even looking at me.
I don’t argue but position myself near the table and wait for further instruction.
The blue fae has a wry smile for his king. “Did you accomplish what you’d hoped?”
Amell sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… I got exactly what I wanted.”
Understanding dawns on me. He wanted to see who would be bold enough to speak out against him.
“Jago’s a blowhard, but Ariman has power, and he’s guaranteed to have a slew of Kymaris’s supporters behind him.”
Amell nods and stands. “At least we know for sure who’s at the head of the rumors. Did you handle the issue with Deandra?”
The blue fae rises and grins. “I did, but please don’t ask me to deal with that woman again. She’s incredibly full of herself.”
Laughter brightens Amell’s face, and I almost lose my breath because he’s even more beautiful with light in his eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to seduce her while you were there.”
Interesting. I look back to the other man.
His grin is boyish, making him look distinctly non-evil as well. “Who says I didn’t?”
Chuckling, Amell inclines his head. “Thank you, Truett. I owe you one.”
“Just doing my king’s bidding.” Perhaps because the mood is light and these two might be friends, Truett’s gaze lands on me. “Of course, if you felt me deserving of a reward, you could lend me your little prize for the evening.”
Amell’s smile is still pleasant, but his words are hard. “I said no one touches her but me. Not even my closest friend.”
Mischief morphs Truett’s face as he rounds the table, clapping a hand to Amell’s shoulder. “That’s not what you said. You said no one touches her. You never said that you’d be touching her until just now.”
My face heats, and my eyes widen. I lock onto Amell, wanting to know if that’s true.
He gives nothing away, only smiles in that lazy, I don’t give a fuck manner. “Did I say that? Hmmm… I don’t remember.”
Truett barks a laugh and heads out the door.
“Come,” Amell says, motioning me forward. “I’ll walk you back to your cell.”
“Why?” I ask. We exit the council room, and I see Jago casually leaning against a marble column.
Amell nods his way. “Because I don’t trust some fae to keep their hands to themselves.”
“Oh.” I practically have to jog to keep up with his long legs.
We’re silent as we head down the spiral staircase, and I expect that’s far enough for Amell, but he surprises me by walking me all the way to my cell. The others are empty, so it must still be too early for quitting work.
I step into mine and start to pull the door closed. Amell frowns as he looks in. “Where’s your bed?”
I look behind me, then back to him with narrowed eyes. “There isn’t one.”
His eyes land on the bucket. “That’s all you have?”
I sweep my hand to indicate the entire corridor. “It’s a prison, Amell. It’s also the Underworld. You told me it shouldn’t be comfortable.”
“You feel comfortable using my name?” he asks, a golden eyebrow arching high.