Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Sacrifices one of her own?”
“On each summer solstice, a golden fae must be offered to the fires to feed the curse.”
My stomach heaves. Jalek’s sister. Who did she sacrifice this year? The Unseelie refugees can’t afford to wait another year but . . . “If the sacrifice could be prevented, would the curse be broken?”
“Weakened, yes, but not broken.”
I hate the way goblins talk in circles. “Tell me how to break the curse and give the Unseelie their powers back.”
“Fire Girl, you have two paths. Which do you desire to know? The one where you die or the one where you live?”
A cold specter slinks over me, and I swallow. “The one where I live.”
“If that is what you choose—” His smile is wicked. “To end the curse and live, you must kill the queen.”
There’s a knock on my door. So much for my hour.
I open my mouth to tell Bakken to leave, but he’s already gone.
“Abriella?”
The sound of Sebastian’s voice on the other side of the door warms and cools me all at once. I’ve been dreading the moment I’d see him again after last night, but despite any residual heartache, I need him more than ever.
Does Sebastian know about the curse? He must—it seems all the fae do—but does he know his mother is responsible? Does he understand that a whole host of faeries want her dead—not just because of feuding courts but because she is literally killing them? I can’t imagine he’d sanction the death of one of his own simply to keep this curse alive. Then again, there’s so much about Sebastian that I never would have imagined, which is exactly why I can’t trust him.
I tuck the Mirror of Discovery under my skirts and wrap it in shadow. Drawing in a fortifying breath, I open the door and am met with the sight of Sebastian’s deep eyes and smiling face. All thoughts of curses and sacrifices scatter from my mind as it fills with images of Sebastian with his hands all over that other woman.
Keep it together, Brie. Focus.
Swallowing hard, I gesture him inside. “Hi.” One word, and it wobbles. I don’t know if I’m capable of pretending last night didn’t happen.
“We need to talk.”
“Okay . . .” I drop my gaze. I’m so sick of keeping secrets from him, but if I get the Grimoricon from the summer palace, I will be that much closer to the end of these lies and all this deceit. That much closer to helping Finn and his people—and I’m realizing that’s something I really want to do.
I don’t have to look up to know that Sebastian’s moving closer. I am always aware of him when he’s close. He tilts my face up, guiding me to meet his eyes. “I heard about last night,” he says.
Everything inside me stills as images flash before me. The shower, so cold on my hot skin, and the firm, unrelenting press of Finn’s body against mine, his mouth on my neck. The way I begged him . . .
“Riaan just told me. He would have told me sooner, but for some reason he assumed that when you left the party last night, you came to my room.” He shakes his head. “I wish you would have.”
Oh. Oh. I can only stare. My mind’s a mess of questions and hurt and justifications I know I shouldn’t tell myself. But as I lose myself in those sea-green eyes, I feel the temptation of easy forgiveness. Everything would be so much easier if we could just go back to how things were when he left my room yesterday.
“I’m sorry about the other girl,” he whispers. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Bash, minutes before, you’d been in here kissing me.” Pointing this out makes me feel like a complete hypocrite. Only hours after that, I was begging Finn to touch me, to kiss me. It hardly matters that it didn’t happen. I would have welcomed it if he’d been willing, and that is betrayal enough. Yes, I could blame the cocktail of drugs and heartbreak, but . . .
Sebastian’s eyes flash as he steps back. I see so much in that beautiful face—frustration, anger, maybe a hint of self-loathing. “I told you I’m expected to choose a wife, and while you try to talk yourself into even considering it, there are women who want the position.”
“I invited you to my bed and you walked away and found her.”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “I think I was trying to convince myself that what I felt with you wasn’t special. I wanted to believe I could feel it with one of them too.”
The words hit like a dull blow. “Did you?”
His gaze drops to my mouth, and he slowly shakes his head. “No. I never do, no matter how strongly I wish it.”