Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
The memories. The lies.
“You said the vamps threatened me, and that’s why you killed them.”
“Yes.”
“Why, then, would I take their hearts? They were already dead. The threat had been eliminated.”
“I don’t know, Hannah. I don’t believe it was you, at least not the you that I know.”
I rub at my forehead, trying to ease the axe that’s hacking into my skull.
This isn’t right.
This isn’t right.
My stomach clenches, and I double over in pain with a gasp.
“Princess!”
Rogan grips my shoulders, but I hold up a hand to keep him back. I dry heave onto the dirt. Nothing comes up. Not even Rogan’s blood.
Good.
I need the blood.
I need the strength.
Because I know what I must now do.
War may be raging, but I have my own battle. A battle for my very soul.
If I truly mutilated two bodies—and I’m not at all convinced that I did—I must find out why and who manipulated me into it.
“I didn’t do it, Rogan,” I choke out.
“Hannah... I love you. That won’t change.”
“You can love a person capable of such a horrific act?”
“You love me, don’t you? I ended their lives because they threatened my mate. You.”
I sigh as my nausea subsides. I rise and face him, my beautiful wolf.
“I do. I love you, Victor Rogan. I love you, and I’m going to prove to you that I did not do this.”
As the memory fades away, I face Alara. “I told him I’d prove to him that I did not cut out those hearts.”
“And you have,” she says. “He knows now that you’re not his fated mate.”
“Which means he knows his true mate—the wolf he’s with now—is the one.”
“Yes,” Alara says gently. “And she’s no doubt filling his head with reasons that he’s making sense of because of the force with which he’s being drawn to her. She lies to him, speaks in ways only he can understand because of the energy between them.” Alara’s eyes darken and her jaw tenses. “She means to harm you and your son, Hannah. Rogan will be forced to choose between those he loves and the person to whom he’s drawn, body and soul.”
“But not heart?” I ask.
“No. His heart belongs to you and your child. She will never have that.”
“How am I supposed to compete with fate?” I shake my head, ball my hands into fists. “I love him, Alara. His child needs him.”
“His mate means him no harm,” Alara says. “She’s feeling the same things, after all. But she’s not who she seems to be.”
“Who is she, then?”
“I don’t know. I wish I were clairvoyant so I could help you figure it out. But she’s hiding something—something she may not even be aware of—and there is one threat to her.”
“Me,” I say softly.
“Yes, one threat for now.” Alara drops her gaze to my abdomen. “Soon there will be two, and Hannah, you must listen to me carefully.”
I swallow, nodding.
“Your child must survive. The livelihood of everyone on this planet depends on it.”
43
Alara’s words cut into me, infuse me with something I can’t name.
Your child must survive. The livelihood of everyone on this planet depends on it.
That’s a lot of pressure to put on a baby who hasn’t even been born yet. Hasn’t taken a breath.
It’s a hell of a lot of pressure to put on his mother as well.
I gulp back the fear for my child, for myself.
“Tell me what to do.”
Her violet eyes pierce me with a gaze full of gravity. “Again, Hannah. Lift the stone again.”
I nod, gather my focus, and repeat the exercise.
And I fail.
“Why?” I ball my hands into fists. “Why is it harder this time?”
“The second time is always more difficult. But the third time will be easier.”
I close my eyes, try to concentrate. My hands go absently to my belly, to my child. He flutters within me, though he’s too young yet to actually kick so I can sense it. Still, he’s there. I feel him.
And I draw strength from the love I have for him.
I open my eyes, and through sheer will, I move the stone once more. It wobbles less before rising and coming to me. It drops lightly into my outstretched palm.
I look to Alara, but instead of pride, I see determination in her gaze as she says, “Again.”
I drop the stone…and I begin.
Four more times I lift the stone with my mind, and Alara was correct. It does get easier.
But it’s still difficult.
“We’re going to try another exercise,” she says. “I’ll create a phantom opponent for you, and you will fight him.”
I turn to her. “You think I need to learn to fight? I took on three men at once outside The London in Las Vegas.”
“I believe your wolf saved you that night.”
“I held my own, Alara. Fighting isn’t something I need help with. I’m a third-degree blackbelt in Taekwondo. My axe kick is legendary.” I whip my right leg until it’s nearly parallel with my body and bring it down with a whomp through the air.