Wingless Crow: Part 1

Wingless Crow, part 1 World of the River of Mists Copyright © 2023 Marina Simcoe All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact the author. Marina Simcoe [email protected] Facebook/Marina Simcoe Author This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Spelling: English (American) Editing by Cissell Ink Proofreading by Nic Page Cover image source Depositphotos.com and Period Images Wingless Crow is the first book in the Wingless Crow duet. It contains graphic descriptions of intimacy, violence, and discussions on adult themes. Intended for mature readers. Created with Vellum Wingless Crow PART 1 MARINA SIMCOE Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Crownless King More in the River of Mists More by Marina Simcoe More by Marina Simcoe About the Author Please Stay in Touch To all who need no wings to fly. Chapter One “Don’t look just yet, but the hot guy on the other end of the bar is checking you out.” Diane made big eyes, staring straight at me but tilting her head slightly to the right, where the man she was talking about must be sitting behind me. As a rule, random hot guys didn’t “check me out” for any good reason. “Yeah, I left my pen in my hair.” I yanked my ball pen out of the messy bun it held. My thick, chestnut hair unraveled, falling over my shoulders. It’d been making me hot in the office, so I’d used the pen to hold it up when my hair elastic broke. “He must be wondering what weirdo would come to the bar like that. Either that or he’s just staring at those girls over there.” I tipped my chin at a flock of giggling college girls at the table that would probably be in the hot guy’s direct line of view if I wasn’t sitting in the way. Diane didn’t look convinced. Her excitement didn’t dim a bit. “Nope. I think he likes you.” “Then he couldn’t be that hot,” I quipped. There were far more attractive targets for a hot guy to stare at in this bar. It was Friday night. Most women were dressed nicely, with their hair done properly. They wore full make-up and smelled like fruit and flowers. I was still in my work clothes—a simple dress and a gray cardigan I knitted years ago in high school, back when I had enough time for hobbies. I probably smelled like ink cartridges, dusty cubicle walls, and microwaved food. My hair was a mess, even without the ball pen stuck in it. “He must be desperate if he thinks I’m his only option.” Diane rolled her eyes. “Fine. But would it kill you to smile if he comes over?” I stretched my lips into something that probably resembled a tired, miserable scowl rather than a flirty smile. “Whatever…” She waved her hand at me, giving up. “Play hard to get. Maybe he’s into that.” I was too tired to play anything. It’d been a hard day at work. A hard week… A hard year, dammit. I’d worked late into the night today and was going back to the office first thing in the morning, despite it being Saturday tomorrow. I was too numb from exhaustion to even think about flirting. Trying to impress a hot guy felt like a chore at this point. Sipping her wine, Diane slid another furtive glance over my shoulder. “Well, he’s still looking at you. God, he’s so fucking hot.” She moaned softly then clicked her tongue in appreciation. “You know in that rugged, dangerous kind of way. He’s huge too. Must be a bodybuilder.” Diane and I weren’t close friends, just coworkers who happened to live in the same apartment building and walked home together once in a while. She didn’t know that bodybuilders weren’t my type. Not that I had a type. But if I did, I didn’t think bodybuilders would be it. It was safe to say I wasn’t their type, either. Despite that, curiosity stirred in me. I wished to steal a look at the guy, too. “Uh-oh!” Diane gasped under her breath. “He’s coming over here.” “He is?” Panic jolted me like an electric shock. It’d been forever since I’d spoken to a guy who was in any way interested in me. What the hell was I supposed to say? I flicked my hair over my shoulder, then nervously tugged at my ear. Did the pen leave ink marks on my neck or ear? I drew in a long breath, trying to get my nerves under control. Maybe I could tell him a joke? I liked making people laugh. Even a bad joke could ease the tension of a first date and help break the ice. Unfortunately, I was too tired to come up with even a bad joke right now. My brain had been wrung out during the long day at the office. But then again, this wasn’t a date. The guy was probably coming over here to ask for my pen to write down another girl’s phone number. As pathetic as the thought was, it calmed me down instantly. Of