The Three Kings (Forsaken #3) Read Online Penelope Sky

Categories Genre: Dark, Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forsaken Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
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He shook his head. “We both need our sleep. The road ahead of us will be arduous, at best.”

“What if they sneak up on us?”

“They aren’t going to sneak up on me and two dragons.” He wiped his fingers on the cloth then rinsed his plate with his canteen. “Gunter may be their new ruler, but I’m the one running the show. They won’t fuck with me.”

Huntley had always been a brooding, no-bullshit kind of guy, but his coldness had deepened, and so had his authority. He didn’t need to be decorated with handcrafted robes and a crown of jewels to look like a king. He was kingly in every aspect of his life. He dominated everything around him—and not just me. “I’m worried.”

He looked at me across the fire, his blue eyes attentive. “Why?”

“Everything you said about Haldir…all those bruises on your body.”

“He’s my problem, not yours.”

“Your problems are my problems, Huntley. Because if he kills you…I’ll lose everything.”

He kept his same stare, not giving me a glimpse of empathy. “He won’t.”

“He almost did.”

“His dragon almost did—because he’s a fucking coward. I’ll get him, baby. I’ll get all of them.”

“I just… I know I can’t help you.” I was good with a sword, could take on a man twice my size, but one of the kings… I was simply no match for it. Huntley was the strongest swordsmen I’d ever encountered, and I’d watched them knock each other around on top of that roof like two puppets. “At least not without Pyre.”

“Then keep Pyre close—always.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Elora

There was nothing to do except sit and wait.

Bastian had been gone a week. A very long week. A week that left me lonely and crippled with anxiety. Necrosis hadn’t struck HeartHolme, and our scouts hadn’t reported the approach of their army.

Like sitting ducks, we just waited for war to knock on our front door.

I sat at the bar with a pint in front of me, Ian beside me. Now, he was always in his full battle armor, his sword, dagger, and shield, ready for the bells when the alarm was raised. Others in town were dressed similarly, shopping in the market with their bows across the backs and their axes in their belts.

Everyone was waiting.

Ian drank from his beer but didn’t say anything.

I hoped Bastian would return. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

“It’s weird,” Ian said. “I feel like every night is our last night on this earth.”

“Yeah…I know what you mean. I double-check everything every morning, but I realize there’s nothing more for me to do.”

Ian nodded. “The wall is prepped. We’re ready. Just wish Huntley were here…”

“Yeah.”

“He wasn’t here last time, and I felt it. Everyone did.”

I nodded. “But according to his note, he should be here soon.”

“I expected him to be here by now, actually.” He stared into his glass.

“He’d just conquered the Kingdoms when he wrote that. I’m sure he had a lot of stuff to take care of. He’s armed with two dragons, and he survived not just one battle, but several. I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either.”

He stared for a moment longer before he gave a quick nod. “You’re right.”

We returned to our tense silence.

Then I heard it—the bells. The sound was distant, not coming from the main gate, but from the opposite end of HeartHolme. It was so faint I wasn’t sure if I was imagining them, but when I looked at my brother, the look on his face told me he heard them too. “Fuck.”

We ran through the streets toward the castle in the rear, the bell tolling at the very top of the keep. Other soldiers were running too, trying to answer the call before the emergency became worse.

Before we reached the double doors, the bells went quiet.

Wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

We pushed through the doors, and both of us stilled when we saw what lay behind.

Dead soldiers—everywhere.

Ian immediately pulled out his sword. “Elora, stay here.”

“Fuck off, I’m not staying anywhere.” I did the same, pulling out the Ice sword that Bastian had asked me to carry.

He gave me an irritated look but didn’t have time to berate me, so he moved on. He climbed up the steps, finding more of the dead along the way. The castle was silent, so the attackers had been killed…or they had already killed everyone else.

We made it to the next floor—and found Commander Dawson dead on the stairs.

Fuck, this was not good.

We moved farther up and stilled at the sight.

Queen Rolfe was on her knees, a blade pressed so hard against her throat she bled a few drops. Her head was held high even though she was confined to the floor, and her eyes were still as steely and cold as ever.

I’d never seen the man holding her hostage before, but I knew who he was.


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