Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Paxton looked down at his burned feet, then over at Vero. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Vero said. “How badly are you injured?”
Paxton leaned slightly to look at Vero’s back. “About the same as you, I suppose.”
The frigid night air helped, and the angry sleet stung as it hit his flesh, but then it provided a balming relief. Vero sent more healing cells to the deeper burns on his body. He stared at the damaged log facade. “I heard just one detonation.”
“Affirmative,” Paxton said. “I think the explosives were set in the small bathroom between our room and the twins’ bedroom.”
“You all four got out,” Vero said slowly. “So either those weren’t meant to kill you, or…” He looked uneasily toward the silent building.
Paxton stiffened. “Or there are more explosives in there that did not detonate. We also need to check your bedroom in the east wing.”
“I’ll go.” Vero’s right foot felt numb, but no doubt the healing cells would do their job. Their enemies needed to kill Paxton before the Convexus—in exactly seven days.
“No. I’ll go,” Paxton said.
Vero shoved him not too gently to the side. “In case you forgot, you’re the king. We need you to stay alive.” Without waiting for an answer, he pivoted away, fury hotter than the explosion erupting through him.
Fury that Paxton didn’t know to keep himself safe, and fury that somebody had dared try to blow up his brother. He had felt little loyalty during his life, but he’d at least tried to be loyal to his family members and to his nation as a whole. This was different. This felt different. There was a depth to Vero’s fury that caused him to go stone-cold. He hadn’t known his brother for long, but they shared blood. That meant something, and he would find whoever had tried to kill not only the king of their nation, but his brother.
A wisp of sound behind him caught his attention as he walked inside the smoking lodge. He looked over his shoulder, unsurprised to see Paxton. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Paxton shook his head. “I’m not letting you go up there alone. Now come on, let’s get this done.”
Irritation climbing through him, Vero stomped up the damaged steps, unsurprised as one gave way beneath his uninjured foot. He hopped up and kept moving without missing a stride. His brother truly did not understand his duties as the leader. At the moment he should be protected, guarded, and safe. Instead, the idiot was following him, burned head to toe, wearing only tattered boxers.
His brother had big feet.
Vero had no clue where that thought came from, but he moved farther down the hallway, acidic black smoke attacking him from every angle. He reached the room formerly occupied by the twins and shoved inside, noting some of the smoke had dissipated out the burned-away wall. Dirty chunks of ice littered still-smoldering bedclothes as well as weapons leaning against the far wall.
He stalked past the nearest bed into what had been the twins’ bathroom. The room now stood as a burned-out shell of black charcoal and torn wood. He pointed toward where the sink had been. “They hid the explosives under there.”
Paxton stood behind him, tall and sure, seemingly not noticing that his feet were burned to a crisp. It had to hurt to stand on them. He looked around. “There was nowhere in here for a secondary device.”
“Agreed.” Vero turned back to the bedroom and they quickly searched it, spending extra time in the closet and tossing the beds out of the way. He cocked his head. “That leaves one room on this wing.”
“I’m aware,” Paxton said grimly, pivoting toward the door and heading into the hallway before Vero could jump in front of him.
Enough of this shit. “We really have to get you accustomed to acting like a king,” Vero snapped, shoving his brother behind him.
“I am acting like a king,” Paxton said, knocking him on the arm.
Vero grit his teeth and kicked open the door of what had been Paxton’s large room. The bed had fallen and was a smoldering heap of mattress and blankets. He hurried toward the closet and rifled through it, looking for another device, while Paxton went into the adjoining bath and did the same.
Paxton emerged, shaking his head, soot covering the right side of his body. “There’s nothing in there. Maybe they thought the one bomb would take us all out.”
“I don’t think so,” Vero said, his gaze caught on the one dresser to the side of the closet. He stumbled over crispy black wood and shattered belongings as well as ice from the windows and immediately began pulling out and dumping out drawers. No explosives.
Paxton shrugged. “Let’s search your bedroom and then go check on the twins. I guess this was it.”
“This wasn’t it.” Vero knew to his very soul there was some danger here. He could feel it. He could smell it. Grunting, he grabbed the heavy oak dresser, lifted it, and heaved it across the room. Looking down, he could see a bomb of sorts embedded in the floor. The left side of it glowed yellow and began to flash to red.