As the Crow Dies: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel: (Moonlit Monsters) (Misty Hollow Book 8) by J.R. Rain & H.P. Mallory

Author:J.R. Rain & H.P. Mallory [Rain, J.R. & Mallory, H.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2025-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Thorn

“Just… know that I care, okay? I promise this doesn’t change anything. You’re always going to be part of my life.”

My chest felt like it was on fire, and only part of it was the weight of the intruder that had pinned me to the four-poster bed I’d collapsed into. It hurt to hear her voice so small and uncertain. I hated that I’d made her feel this way. Hated that she doubted for a second that I’d want to be around her, even if we never became anything. What fickle friends had she had in life that she thought so little of my loyalty?

A cool hand flexed over my mouth, silencing any sound I might have made in reply. The tip of a blade hovered just below my right ear. One good slash, and he’d open my jugular down to the bone. The blade was an old school affair, forged from cold iron and the magic of Winter, which made it absolutely deadly to any fae, but especially to their opposite number. Winter could act like a contagion in the body, freezing out all other magic. In humans, it was deadly in hours, and hard to prove. Coroners rarely knew what they were looking at and chalked it up to frostbite. It took someone of my caliber to see it for what it truly was and report it to the authorities. I’d thought about becoming a bounty hunter or detective for years, since so many monster-related deaths flew under the mundane radar.

Except that was no longer in the cards for me. Not just because Lord Torrin was crouched over my chest like a starving night hag, peering intently down at me as Charlie shuffled away from the doorway, sniffling gently. By accessing the sample of Queen Damia’s magic to save Fox’s life, I’d committed at least five years of my life to her service. If I survived Janara and her loyalists, I was returning to the game of politics, whether I liked it or not.

I twisted my hips hard, trying to buck Torrin off. I might as well have been trying to budge the castle walls. Torrin had all the leverage. He’d sent someone in with breakfast in the morning. I hadn’t questioned it. Hadn’t realized the food was drugged. Was Charlie about to walk into a trap because I’d been too weary to do my job properly? I wanted to hit something but couldn’t even summon a lick of summer magic to melt the icy bonds he’d magicked onto my hands. I was trapped, totally at the mercy of this traitorous dickhead.

The muscles in Torrin’s neck bulged when I bit down on his palm, worrying at the skin there like a dog with a bone. It would take too long to shift to my beak, which would have had more effect. He might stab me in the throat, either way, but he’d at least prevented me from sounding the alarm.

Blood bubbled out from the imprints of my teeth and ran down either side of my chin in streams.

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