The Stoneheart Bride – The Dead Lands Read Online Kati Wilde

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
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“This is what he has told you?”

“For most of my life.” And Flora could not argue with it. She did owe him. After her cousin Vash, she was next in line to the royal throne, so her uncle could have sent her away or killed her, as many kings did their potential rivals. Instead he’d taken her in.

“And what of his duty?”

“His?” she echoed in confusion.

“To see you happy. Or at least to keep his promise of making you safe and secure. Or does that promise only last until he marries you off? For the price of feeding and clothing a child, he would take possession of the remainder of your life and trade you to another kingdom when it suits him.” A low growl reverberated through his chest. “You are worth so much more than that.”

Burning tears threatened to fall. Desperately she held them back. “To be fair to my uncle, the price of my clothing is quite expensive.”

She attempted to say it lightly, yet her breath still hitched and her voice still broke. Perhaps Brom recognized that she jested in order to deflect the overwhelming impact of his words, because he merely eased back, and his only response was to briefly tighten the embrace of his arm around her waist.

You are worth so much more than that.

Her eyes squeezed shut. Never would she be worth more than that to her uncle. So he would soon try to marry her off again.

And yet… What if she refused to marry at her uncle’s—the king’s—command?

With that rebellious thought, a strange little hope flared to life inside her. Because she probably could refuse. After all, her uncle had not taken her in out of the kindness of his heart—he’d taken her in due to the kindness of her parents’ hearts. Generous and merciful, they’d been beloved by everyone within the kingdom and their deaths were deeply mourned. So removing Flora from the royal line would have risked the wrath and hatred of the people under her uncle’s rule.

And Flora had continued her parents’ traditions as best she could. As a member of the royal family, she was one of the few who could hunt wild game without being arrested for poaching. But the meat she hunted never ended up on the king’s table—instead she brought it each day to villages and families in need. For that, she was as beloved as her parents had been, and so her uncle might not risk angering the kingdom by marrying her off against her will or severely punishing Flora for her disobedience if she refused.

Though if it came to that, she might simply…leave. Go somewhere else, where she could live as quietly and as happily as she could. Which might not be very happy at first. Not until her broken heart healed. But surely one day, it would.

Perhaps such a life was not all she’d dreamed, but it gave her much more hope than she’d had only an hour ago, when she’d seemed destined to be the ogres’ feast. And it gave her more hope than she’d had even ten minutes ago, when the future that lay ahead seemed so loveless and bleak, married off for her uncle’s ambitions.

By questioning what her duty truly ought to be, Brom had opened Flora’s eyes to a better future than she might have had—even if he hadn’t wanted the future she’d once dreamed of sharing with him.

Never would she hope for that future again.

But the present was an unexpected gift to be treasured. In all the time they’d spent together, Flora had never been as close to Brom as she was now. With her back flush against his front and her legs dangling the length of his, her body was ensconced in his solid strength and penetrating warmth. The steady rhythm of the stallion’s stride kept them rocking together in slow, constant motion—and never had Flora been so aware of anything as she was each brush of his hair-roughened skin against hers, of his heated breaths lifting delicate strands from her tangled mane and feathering them across her cheek, of the enormous span of his left hand at her side and how his widespread fingers held her from hip to ribs, with his thumb nestled under the soft curve of her breast. Each moment seemed faceted by emotion and sparkling with sensation, as if every second was a flawless jewel that one day she might take out from the velvet box of her memory and examine. After only a short time in his arms, she was already wealthy beyond measure.

Then Brom shattered her peace when he quietly asked, “Did your uncle order you away from me?”

Flora closed her eyes, her throat tightening. She hadn’t answered this question before. Instead she’d spoken of duty. But he’d apparently not forgotten that she’d never explained why she’d avoided him.



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