Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
The woman beside Juniper shifted and my attention swung to her. Wow. The dark-haired beauty appeared ethereal, otherworldly, as if she could meld with a waft of fog at any moment, her mere presence a blend of mystique and majesty. Attired in a luminous cascade of silver, the fabric of her gown flowed around her like tendrils of mist. She’d styled her hair into an intricate braid with threads of the ten colors of the Starfire interwoven in the strands.
Valkara. The woman who wanted Viktor for her own and me dead by fair means or foul.
There was something vaguely familiar about her. Had we met before? But where? When? I wracked my brain but came up empty. Maybe I’d glimpsed her in Viktor’s vargbane-root-triggered memories?
My sister noticed me at last, our gazes meeting. Wonder, worry and hope flittered over her expression. She tried to stand, but the chain kept her seated.
Anger and frustration collided within me, beating at my composure. Both emotions intensified as Deco ascended a set of steps and stalked across the stage.
Conversations quickly turned to hushed whispers. Even the clink of silverware and champagne glasses faded.
Still grinning, he stopped beside the women, unfurling his massive wings behind them. His meaning was unmistakable: mine.
I shuddered at the menacing sight he presented, which only made his smile grow. Dang it, I’d let him know he’d gotten to me.
“Guess we don’t need to fight our way to the dungeon,” Bodi muttered.
Nope. The women were here. So what was Plan B? If any of us erupted, we might kill the innocents. Perhaps that was why Deco arranged this.
Viktor remained silent, fisting and relaxing his hands, shaking his head. Hearing whispers in the fog again?
I focused on Valkara. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving. Oh, yes. She was definitely talking to him. Either she sought to warn him of some hidden danger, or she wished to distract him at a dangerous time. Because why else would she do this here at such an opportune moment?
“Who’s ready for the show?” Deco called. He clapped his hands twice.
Soldier after soldier flooded into the room using every doorway, each man already partially shifted. They lined up against the walls, wing to wing, until completely surrounding us. Aggression and glee tainted the atmosphere. Next, Deco gave a quick hand motion, and the elegant guests rushed to the stage, taking up posts behind their king and his prisoners, leaving us alone on the polished parquet floor.
Well, okay then. Plan B crystalized. Fight, survive, and kill Deco. Viktor was right. The turul king had chosen his path. If it must end in his death to protect my loved ones, so be it.
Familiar heat bloomed in the center of my sternum, quickly spreading through my arms and pooling in my fingers. My nails darkened, sharpened, and extended into claws. Careful, careful. If I accidentally harmed my sister while she was helpless and bound…
“No, no, no,” Viktor muttered, his eyes squeezed shut.
Fighting for calm, I spun in front of Viktor and pressed my palm over his racing heart. “I need you to focus on me for a moment, baby, not Valkara. Okay?”
His eyes snapped open. Glowing golden rings flared in his irises, burning away the glaze of madness. “Ja?”
“Fight to kill.”
“Ja,” he repeated with determination. Between one blink and the next, his body doubled in size, pieces of his clothing tearing. Some even fell away. Jagged flashes of lightning crackled over his skin. “Bodi,” he called.
The prince understood the unspoken request and moved behind me. He, too, had doubled in size and now wore what remained of his ripped clothing. No wonder berserkers fought naked.
Viktor stepped in front of me. Together, they formed a wall of protection around me.
“You think you’ve won, but you’re about to lose your army,” Viktor stated. “Let’s do this in the way of the ancients. Challenge me one-on-one. Winner is king of the House of Turul, berserkers and shifters alike.”
How ironic. This was what Lena had desired all along–these two men battling for both thrones and all the power that came with them—but she wasn’t here to witness the fruits of her labor.
“Ah, but I have no desire to rule your house.” Hatred iced his golden brown eyes. His voice hardened, more unbendable than steel. “I intend to destroy it, piece by piece. I’ll start with your firebrand.” His attention slid to me but only remained long enough to blow me a kiss, throwing fuel on the fires of Viktor’s burgeoning rage. “Unless you can save her.” That said, he threw back his head and released a guttural squawk.
His soldiers sprang forward. The rasp of metal sliding against leather pierced the air as Vik and Bodi drew their weapons. The shifters reached us within seconds, attacking in unison. With matching roars, my teammates burst into action. A gruesome battle ensued, the combatants moving too quickly to track. I only saw bodies and body parts toppling and piling up around us. Grunts and groans blended with pops and gurgles I hoped to never hear again.