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)
“What are you doing?” She attempted to wrench her arm free, but his grip tightened painfully.
Another Kurjan soldier emerged from the tree line, his boots crunching through the snow. What was his name? Saren. That’s right. “Silence her,” he snapped, his tone sharp and irritated. “She’s drawing attention.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Coron grunted, pulling her closer. His grip bit into her skin, sending pain lancing up her arm.
“Vero!” she screamed again, desperation breaking through her fear.
His eyes opened suddenly. A guttural sound tore from his chest, deep and feral. He jolted upright in the UTV, a primal roar ripping from his throat. Her blood froze. The sound was inhuman, otherworldly—raw fury made audible.
He vaulted out of the vehicle, charging straight toward Saren. The impact was brutal. The male’s body slammed against a tree, bark cracking beneath the force. The sickening thud of skull against wood made her stomach churn, the sound reminding her of a watermelon smashing onto the ground.
Before the male could react, Vero’s fangs sank into his neck with swift precision. In one brutal motion, he jerked his head, tearing out half of the Kurjan’s throat. Blood sprayed in vivid arcs against the snow as Vero punched through Saren’s throat to the bloody tree. Saren’s head rolled off his shoulders before his body fell.
Lyrica froze, the air rushing from her lungs. She’d never seen violence so unrestrained, so absolute. Vero turned, blood dripping from the fresh bullet wound in his cheek. His eyes, darker than she’d ever seen, glinted with a ring of pale blue.
“Let her go,” he demanded, his voice low and cold, a predator’s growl.
Coron yanked her closer. “Not a chance, trait—”
She acted on instinct, letting her knees buckle and her body go slack into dead weight. Her sudden drop startled him enough to loosen his grip, and she hit the icy ground with a jarring thud. In the same instant, Vero was on him.
They collided in a flurry of movement, fists flying, grunts of effort punctuating the chaos. The fight was vicious, raw. Snow scattered as they rolled, each seeking the upper hand. Coron managed to land a punch directly to Vero’s injured cheek. Blood sprayed, staining the ground.
The sight jolted Lyrica into action. Scrambling on hands and knees, she searched for a weapon. Her eyes landed on the glint of a gun half buried in the snow near the first soldier’s body. She reached for it, but her boots skidded out from under her. She fell, her palms scraping against ice.
A roar cut through the air, and she looked up in time to see Vero drive a knife into Coron’s throat. The soldier’s eyes went wide with shock and his hands clawed at the blade, but Vero didn’t stop. He twisted the knife, his expression unrelenting. Then he clapped both hands against Coron’s temples, and the Kurjan’s eyes rolled back in his head before he dropped, unconscious.
The fight ended abruptly. Silence fell, broken only by the ragged sound of her breathing. Lyrica stared as Vero stood, his chest heaving. He yanked Coron’s body up by the jacket.
“Get in the UTV,” Vero ordered, turning so his gaze locked on hers.
Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. She scrambled into the passenger seat, gripping the edge of the console to ground herself to reality. Moments later, Vero tossed Coron’s limp body into the back. “Stay here.”
She gulped and stared back at the unconscious Kurjan with the blade still embedded in his throat. Her stomach lurched, but she turned to see Vero tearing the jacket and shirt off the headless body outside. His shoulders straightened, and he turned, walking around to take the driver’s seat.
“His torso?” she whispered.
He nodded. “Yeah. The brand of the circle with the three slashes was over his heart.” He started the engine. “I’ll send soldiers out to check on Maeve and Ralstad.”
“Are you all right?” she managed, her voice trembling. She turned to him, her gaze falling on the wound marring his cheek.
He kept his gaze on the snowy trail ahead. “I’m fine,” he said curtly.
“You’re bleeding,” she pressed, her words unsteady. “Badly.”
“I’ll manage.” His tone softened, just enough to make her chest ache.
She hesitated, then held out her wrist. “Would my blood help?”
His eyes flicked to hers, something unreadable passing through his expression. Slowly, he nodded. “Thank you,” he said, the words quiet.
Her pulse quickened as he took her wrist in one hand, his grip firm but careful. His lips brushed against her skin, and then his fangs pierced her. The sting was brief, a sharpness that gave way to warmth. She gasped as he drew from her, the pull of her blood intimate. Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears.
When he pulled back, he licked the wound closed, his eyes meeting hers. “Thank you,” he said again, his voice steady.