Prison of Thorns – Blood Prophecy Read Online L.H. Cosway

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
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I stared down at the boy. He couldn’t have been older than five or six, with golden brown hair and eyes the same blue as mine. I ran my hand affectionately through that wavy hair, my fingers moving over something small and pointy. I knew instinctively that the boy was my son, and the fact that he had little baby horns, horns that hadn’t yet grown to their full size, meant one thing. I knew exactly who his father was.

The scene faded away, and I was travelling again, only I wasn’t moving into the future. I was being dragged back to the present.

The earthy greenhouse smell filled my nose, and I opened my eyes. I was back with Sarasin, sitting cross-legged in front of him under the tree with yellow leaves.

Well, is your future all that you hoped it would be? Sarasin asked, his booming voice in my head again. I’d requested to see my future to help me understand the prophecy better, but I’d learned very little about that, other than the fact that I possibly played a part in liberating the Oreylian miners. It was all so unexpected and confusing.

Lara had been right. Knowing the future wasn’t a gift but a curse.

Vasilios and I were …

No, I wasn’t ready to fully contemplate everything I’d witnessed. I just couldn’t see how my path would skew in that direction. When I thought about my future, Peter was front and centre, not the demon warlock who’d messed up my life from the very moment he’d stepped into it. I couldn’t even be relieved by the fact that I would survive my time in prison. That whoever meant me harm, whoever was sending me visions of that tree, didn’t succeed in killing me. Now, I was riddled with anxiety for another reason entirely.

I finally lifted my eyes to Sarasin’s. “No. It’s nothing like what I’d hoped. It’s nothing like anything I could possibly imagine.”

It only seems that way because you haven’t experienced the journey yet. Once you do, it will all make perfect sense.

“I don’t know about that,” I grumped and pushed to my feet. “Can I go now?”

You are free to leave, Sarasin replied.

I walked to the door, then paused to turn back to him. He remained seated on the floor, completely at ease as he watched me. “Can I ask a question?”

Of course.

“Is the future I saw tonight set in stone, or can I change it?”

Nothing is ever set in stone. Our lives can go in different directions if we will them to, but ask yourself this. What if the future you want to change is actually the best possible outcome? What if another path leads only to misery?

His question gave me pause. I hadn’t considered that, but I also didn’t know how pursuing a future with Peter would lead to misery. He was my first love. He meant everything to me, and though we might face hurdles along the way, I couldn’t imagine a scenario that could tear us apart.

15.

I returned to the dining room, where most of the guests still sat, enjoying the food and wine. It looked like more courses had been served while I was gone, and I was disappointed to have missed them. In all honesty, I could’ve skipped my alone time with Sarasin and remained there instead, stuffing my face with vegetarian goodness. Now that would’ve been far more enjoyable than seeing what the future had in store.

My return drew lots of attention. The room didn’t exactly fall into silence, but many inmates stared at me in curiosity. It was like they were trying to figure out how someone so new to the prison had been chosen for Sarasin’s Gift. I still hadn’t figured it out myself, though I guessed it might have something to do with the fact that he knew I wasn’t a real criminal. He saw something worthy in me, and that’s why I’d been chosen.

Vasilios lifted his wine glass and knocked back a long gulp before grabbing a half-empty bottle sitting on the table and refilling his glass. He looked a little drunk, and I wondered how much wine he’d had in my absence.

“Darya,” he said, a bleary look in his eyes. “You’re back.”

I was momentarily awkward in his presence, given what I’d seen. A lot of my future was his future, too. Not that I had any intention of telling him that. I had every intention of changing direction, despite Sarasin’s warning.

“Are you mad that I was picked and you weren’t?” I asked because he seemed to be in a bit of a grey mood.

“I’m not mad. There will be other opportunities for me to see my future. Sarasin isn’t the only psychic elf in the world,” he said, though he still sounded somewhat forlorn.

I took a seat next to him. “That’s true. I’m still sorry it wasn’t you. I would rather you were picked instead of me.”


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