Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Guess it’s time.
“The dragons know what our parents did.” Masen nervously pushes his glasses up his nose.
“Yeah, and you’ll remember that some of the Empyrean sided with us,” Garrick says, adjusting his grip on his sword. The guy has grown another couple of inches in the last year, making his usually dense frame a little gangly. “There are dragons here who know what’s out there and will choose the same. We just have to find them before the others find us. This isn’t hopeless.”
“Feels like it.” Cerella Wyckley leans a dark-brown cheek on her sister’s shoulder.
“You will all live,” I order, raising my voice, and their spines straighten. Excellent. They’re as good as dead if they walk in there already defeated. “You will live for our parents, for our siblings, for one another. We are the first ten to enter this quadrant, but there are ninety-seven still to follow, and we will show them that we can not only survive this place but thrive in it.” Bodhi will be here next year, and Liam the year after that. The thought of my cousin and foster brother enduring this turns my stomach. “We have a mission, and we will accomplish it. We will not be on tomorrow’s death roll. I fucking forbid it. Do you understand?” I meet their gazes one by one, and slowly, they all nod, even Howell.
The pairs head off in their assigned directions.
The twins to the east.
Howell and Weylan cut a path between the twins and the center.
Keanan and Bryn hold hands as they go west.
Soleil and Masen disappear between the trees to the right.
Garrick and I head straight into the middle of the forest, and the snow fades as we step under the canopy of the enormous trees. My gaze sweeps left to right and then back again, scanning for threats.
An impish grin crosses Garrick’s face the second the others are out of sight. “Ah, young love. Keanan and Bryn are still going strong, even after being fostered separately. Gives me hope.”
“Loving anyone in this place is fucking stupid.” I shake my head and watch the trees for movement. “It makes you vulnerable. Vulnerability is weakness. Dragons kill weak things.”
“Ever the romantic.” His grin deepens, reopening the cut on his lip as he scans the perimeter on the left.
“I’m a realist.” I take watch on the right, looking over my shoulder to keep our backs clear, too.
“Someday, someone is going to come along who knocks you on your ass, Xaden.” He laughs. “And I just hope I’m alive to see…” His face falls. “Shit. I almost forgot.”
“That I have about eight months until I’m betrothed to someone I can’t stand?” A rabbit catches my attention, but I quickly move on.
“Yeah. Fuck. I’m sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck with his left hand, keeping his sword in his right. “But maybe one day you’ll develop feelings for Cat—”
“Not going to happen. That’s business. Not love.” Every encounter I’ve ever had with the spoiled aristocrat has only reinforced my belief that we are going to be miserable. “But that contract gives us a fighting chance, and that’s all that matters.”
“Right.” He blows out a long sigh, and guilt taps my shoulder.
He’s been my best friend since I can remember, and the last thing I want is him feeling shitty about me fulfilling the agreement my father made, so I flip the subject to him. “Besides, not all of us fall in love with the first girl we see and then do nothing about it—”
“She was not the first girl I ever saw,” he argues, switching his sword to his left hand so he can swing a finger in my direction. “And you don’t get a say in who you fall for.”
“We’ll see how that goes for you next year when she gets here. You’ll have to stop fucking around, you know.” A smile tugs at my mouth as color flushes his cheeks.
“You’re one to talk, considering you hauled yourself out of a third-year’s room this morning.” He scoffs. “Besides, that woman will never own up to wanting me, and therefore we will never happen. I will be free to fuck around for the rest of my life, while you, my sweet little honey bear, will not. One of us will be in a loveless marriage, and the other in love with no hope of marriage. Not sure who I pity more.”
“We make quite the pair.” I nod, noting that the snow has stopped.
“Misery loves company, and you and I will sail those melancholic waters like we do everything else—together.” He locks his elbow around my neck. “We’ll just have to make the best of this year, I suppose.”
A shrill scream erupts in the distance, and his arm falls away as our steps slow.
“The good news is, there’s one less person out there trying to kill us.” I shrug.