The Warlord Gena Showalter (primary phonics TXT) 📖

Roc’s claws shaded from gray to black, the tips becoming razors. For pride’s sake, he should make Taliyah crave him. He had something to prove.

Taking her to bed was practically a duty. He didn’t require her virginity, only her pleasure.

Yes! He jumped to his feet, certain of his brilliance. He’d make her come all night long.

Deny my effect on you then, harpy.

Before he’d taken a step, he recalled the day Solar used a similar excuse to be with his bride. He eased into his seat.

Back then, Roc had believed the idea smacked of “pure foolishness.” Did it?

Or did he know better now?

Better. Definitely. With Taliyah, the scales were unbalanced. In her favor! He desired her, but she didn’t desire him in return. She had power over him. An unacceptable situation. No one should have power over him, especially a bride.

Might equaled right.

Roc wasn’t some inexperienced youth who lost his mind in the midst of passion, forgetting his purpose. He had the skill to pleasure Taliyah as much as he pleased, without crossing that final line. As he released the worst of his tension, she would learn to never again taunt him.

The perfect plan. Flawless.

With measured strokes, he petted the key he’d hung around his neck before coming to the gardens. The only way to open the enchanted chastity belt. Taliyah didn’t know the skills he possessed in the bedroom. But she would learn. Laugh at him? No, oh no. She’d be too busy screaming.

Arousal singed muscle and bone. He wanted Taliyah screaming.

He would have the harpy in his bed tonight. By morning, the scale would tip in his favor.

—May I approach, Commander?—

Roc wasn’t in the mood for company, but his station came before his mood. Had phantoms been found? —You may.—

His brother appeared and leaned a broad shoulder against the meteorite. Rather than offer a report about phantoms, as expected, he said, “You look more tormented than usual.”

“That means I look better than I feel,” Roc grumbled. He picked up his chisel to eliminate what remained of the crack. “What do you need?”

“Lack of sex isn’t getting to you at all.”

He opened his mouth to lament the trials of being wed to the world’s most sensual bride, only to snap his teeth together. Soon, Ian would begin his assigned task. As the least ranked, he was forced to do something so horrific Roc shuddered at the thought. Let him have his fun while he can.

“I’ll be better tomorrow, you’ll see.” Sizzling desire raged as he imagined Taliyah naked in his bed. “Much better.”

No reason to inform his brother of his plans. A worried soldier led to a worried army. A worried army was a defeated army. What’s more, their concern had no bearing on the situation. No matter how many times the snarpy begged and pleaded for Roc’s possession, he would refuse, his resolve steadfast.

Ian whistled. “You realize you’re stroking the key like a lover, yes?”

Again? He returned to his task.

“Perhaps I should retain possession of—”

“Mine!” The word burst from him, a command, warning and claim all at once. Realizing how crazed he sounded, he scoured a hand over his face. “My apologies.”

Ian blinked at him. “You’re...sorry? You?”

What if she is your gravita?

No! Roc had endured thousands of years without a fated mate. The odds of finding his gravita were low. Lower than low. And if not, well, Taliyah’s station still didn’t matter. He couldn’t divorce her and sacrifice another; the ritual prevented it. When the time came, Taliyah would die. Perhaps he would ascend immediately afterward. His dream of slaying his enemy and enjoying a happy, peaceful life realized at last.

For the first time, the thought brought no triumph.

Tone flat, he told his brother, “I’ll keep the key.”

Ian held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I thought you should know the harpy rigged traps throughout the palace.” He reached over his shoulder to pluck a large, bloody shard of glass from his flesh. “I met with each of the men this morning. Silver was shocked every time he flipped a light switch. A floorboard caved in and sliced Roux’s tendon. Knobs fell off doors every time Halo touched one. A chandelier came down on my head. Twice.”

An inventive and interesting strategy. None of his other brides had sought to annoy everyone to death. Roc ignored the sliver of pride working through him.

“The harpy doesn’t play nice,” his brother said, amused rather than angry.

“I’ll deal with her after I’ve completed this section of the altar.” He knew just what to do...

“Also,” his brother said, “I should probably mention she visited the prisoners earlier today. The whole group plans to swipe a realm key from Roux, and they aren’t being secretive about it.”

His lips twitched. He had to admire Taliyah’s initiative. He’d threatened to destroy the duplicate realm, and she’d launched a search and recover mission as soon as possible.

Only another Astra brandished the strength and talent to steal from Roux. Especially when he didn’t carry the item in question. Astra were the keys.

“What is she doing now?” he asked, doing his best to hide the intensity of his curiosity.

“After spending hours searching the palace with the crystal, she set up camp in the kitchen. I asked her what she was cooking, and she told me she couldn’t speak to me without angering her snookiems, but if she were able to speak with me, she’d tell me she’s making an elaborate meal for her pookie bear. Obviously, she’s poisoning your food.”

Snookiems? Pookie bear? Ian was right. She was absolutely poisoning Roc’s food. A disappointing and familiar play. Many brides had gotten their hands on toxins and venoms. Not that they’d had any luck. No matter the toxin or venom, the Astra were immune. They created worlds. They were poison, and they were remedy.

He’d expected Taliyah to physically assault him. He’d...hoped.

“Did she search for someone specific?” Her mother, sisters and cousins lived in another realm. People who would mourn her death. A thought he’d