The Warlord Gena Showalter (primary phonics TXT) 📖

When dealing with an Astra, exceptions had to be made.

Let’s do this. Inhale. She pushed her spirit from her body, bit by bit. A painful process, every time. Like amputating a limb. Deeper cold washed over her as bone, muscle and flesh separated from spirit. Almost there...

Every immortal possessed a spirit, soul and body. The body acted as the house. The soul contained the mind, will and emotions—the power—while the spirit acted as a vessel for the soul, linking it to the body. A spirit could function outside the body, but a body couldn’t function without the spirit.

She hated leaving any part of her behind and vulnerable and wished she could mist to feed. Alas. She must ensure a part of her spirit connected with Roc’s, no barriers between them.

As soon as the creepy process completed, she glided across the room and slipped through the wall. And there he lay, the Commander of the Astra. He was asleep, tossing and turning.

Almost giddy, Taliyah glided closer to the bed. Bon appétit.

When he shifted in her direction, a beam of cerulean moonlight bathed him and she froze. Had he sensed her?

His eyes remained closed, his long lashes casting spiky shadows over his cheeks. If not for the lines of strain around his mouth, he would have looked boyish.

“No,” he barked. He kicked at the covers and whipped his head.

Bad dreams? How very...normal. And kind of cute. It humanized him a bit.

She licked her lips as she completed her approach and eased upon the side of the bed.

He thrashed his head again, and an urge to comfort him caught her unaware. What troubled a warlord as fierce as this one? What bothered a killer who proudly wore his worst crimes on his skin?

Are you...softening? Recalling his purpose for her, she had no trouble hardening her heart. Comfort the man planning to kill her? No. Right now, she lived for his torment.

Taliyah leaned into him, letting her mouth hover over his. Her eyelids sank low. Mmm. She already scented his soul, all that spiced rum and melted sugar. Was she drooling? She might be drooling.

Had she brought a cell phone, she might have snapped a picture of her meal and posted it on her social-media platforms.

The caption would read About to dive into an all-you-can-eat buffet of 100% Grade-A Astra beef.

For a moment, Taliyah merely savored him. When hunger eclipsed everything else, she cupped his jaw, shocked by the fervency of her tremors. Tremors that worsened as she pressed her lips against his and extracted...nothing.

She frowned. Had she done something wrong? Tightening her grip, making sure her spirit brushed against his, she refit her mouth over his, extracting...nothing. She sucked with more force. Nothing. She sucked with so much force her cheeks hollowed, then sucked even harder. The only thing she received? A dance with dizziness.

Flabbergasted, she dissolved contact by small degrees. Somehow, this big, beautiful slab of power had blocked her. While sleeping!

He deserved... She was going to... Argh!

Fuming, she returned to her bedroom and reentered her body. As the different parts of her reconnected, limbs tingled and chilled. Mind racing, she eased into an upright position.

Okay. All right. Forget feeding. With so little time before sunrise, she couldn’t hunt his army to consume a soldier. She’d have to go another day without a meal. Perfectly doable. Tomorrow night, she’d visit the army first thing.

Today, she’d settle for striking at Roc in other ways. She had the gun and crossbow. Why not set a trap? At the very least, she’d learn how he reacted to bullets and arrows and how quickly he healed.

Decision made, an idea already taking shape. Taliyah got busy arranging a very bad morning for her husband.

Once she’d figured out all the kinks, she grinned. He wasn’t going to like this at all...

11

As soon as sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows, Roc rose from bed. He’d gotten no sleep. First, he’d stalked the streets of Harpina, on the hunt for phantoms. From there, he’d tossed and turned, plagued by dreams of his sisters, reliving the day his parents sold the girls to the highest bidder. The helplessness of fighting and failing to save them...the sheer terror etched into their little faces... Ian’s tears as the two were carried away...

At some point, Roc had lost himself in a vision of Taliyah. A memory of her flawless body splayed across a bed, flushed and panting, daring him to do whatever he desired as he slid the chastity belt up her legs.

From there, he’d battled a raging hard-on.

Roc glared down at his hands. As expected, no evidence of stardust glittered there. “She isn’t my gravita.”

Chaos sought to teach him a lesson, that was all.

And what would that lesson be, eh? How to obsess over a woman?

Sullen, he grabbed a dagger and stomped into the bathroom. Needful of a distraction, he sent a command to Ian, rather than the other warlords.

—Report.—

Only seconds passed before his brother obliged. —The bride used the crystal for most of the night. I lost track of her multiple times as I framed windows, but I know she had a run-in with the concubines. I don’t know what was said.—

No telling what the unpredictable Taliyah would do to the women in an attempt to hurt him. —Move the concubines to Halo’s quarters near the wall.—A pause. —Anything else?—

—Why? Do you want there to be something else, brother?—

—Never mind. Forget it.—Conversation was a bad idea.

Roc stripped out of his underwear and entered the shower stall with the dagger clutched tight. Cold water sprayed from the overhead spout, quickly warming. Steam filled the enclosure and coated the glass.

As warmth rained over him, he glared at the spot just over his heart. The alevala had regrown, his most hated memory on display. How he wished he could remove the mark permanently. The best he could do was forget for a little while.

Eager, Roc pushed the dagger into the image, into muscle, and slowly rotated the blade in a wide circle. His lips