The Warlord Gena Showalter (primary phonics TXT) 📖

never allowed himself to entertain during his other marriages. A thought he dismissed. Doesn’t matter. Can’t matter.

“I’d guess yes. The more rooms she searched, the more frustrated she appeared.”

Perhaps he’d do a hunt of his own. If any of her relatives visited Harpina the day of the invasion, he’d peg them by sight alone. The mother and cousins had accompanied her that day in the market. The sisters he’d spotted only once, later that day. He could use the females as leverage. Or a gift?

A gift, Commander? Who are you?

As he stood, aggression prickled his nape. Ian felt it, too, and they tensed in unison. Someone prepared to launch an attack. Taliyah?

Just as his blood heated with excitement, a whoosh and a whistle sounded. He reached up, catching the shaft of an arrow, then cast his gaze over the garden. There. His excitement fizzled. Not Taliyah but a vampire hiding in the shade. Another harpy consort?

The bloodfiend launched a second arrow, but Roc caught it, too. With a toss and a sigh of disappointment, he returned both missiles to the vampire. Another whoosh and whistle, only faster and deadlier. The first arrow sank into the vampire’s left eye. The second embedded in the right.

As the screaming man toppled, Ian flashed to his side. With a single swipe of his claws, the vampire forfeited his head.

Ever since Ian lost the Commander’s helmet, he’d meted swift deaths to any who challenged him. He never hesitated to make a kill.

He returned to Roc, the severed head in hand. “Shall I display this on the front lawn with the others?”

He gave a clipped nod, but Ian didn’t flash. He lingered, uneasy, as if something of grave importance plagued him.

“What?” Roc asked and heaved a sigh.

“Do you...maybe, perhaps, I don’t know—” Ian massaged the back of his neck “—want a chastity belt of your own?”

Are you kidding me? Roc dropped his chin, a bull ready to charge. “Do you angle to lose your tongue? If I can’t resist the urge to penetrate one little snarpy, I don’t deserve to lead the most powerful army in existence.”

“Are you sure?” his brother asked, mimicking Taliyah. “Allow me to demonstrate a scene from yesterday’s dinner theater. In the role of Roc...” Ian banged his chest and growled, “I told you what happens when you provoke an Astra. Now I’ll show you. Me Commander.” He snickered. “Oh, and there’s been no sign of phantoms. Not that you asked about our safety or anything.”

One step. Roc took one step before his laughing brother vanished, taking the head with him.

Roc grabbed an icy water bottle, chugged half the contents and poured the rest over his sweaty face. A cool tide rushed over him, doing little to douse his desire for the snarpy.

Maybe he did require a chastity belt of his own.

No, he just needed to deal with the harpy. Ian’s parting shot had set off an alarm. Not loud but noticeable. Erebus never wasted a moment to war. Why hadn’t he sent a phantom to attack yet? New strategy?

Bring it. Roc had planned for every eventuality.

Except Taliyah.

He swiped a hand over his face, freeing his lashes of water droplets. Tonight he would eat the meal she prepared, whatever it was. Goading her temper while they dined was sure to lighten his mood. If she attacked him, she’d give him the perfect excuse to put his hands on her. He could make her want him.

He would.

14

Taliyah surveyed her handiwork. Nice. Expert-level romance. In front of a well-stoked hearth, she’d arranged a picnic-style dinner on a coffee table.

The stage for Roc’s test-seduction was set.

A General should be versed in all forms of attack. Even this. Once she convinced him to remove the belt, she’d know she possessed the ability to seduce him. So would he.

Her confidence would be restored, and she’d have no trouble resuming the orchestration of his murder. All would be well.

She smoothed her hands over tonight’s dress of choice: a stunner of Grecian design, sophisticated yet Gothic. The choker collar provided open shoulders and a deep V that ended just below her navel. The cinched waist led to a flowing hem with multiple slits, her sexy heels on display. Between her breasts dangled the key to Harpina.

Maybe Roc knew what it was; maybe he didn’t. He probably didn’t care either way. In his mind, his threat to destroy the duplicate realm bound her here. He—Argh!

Every time she moved, the chastity belt grazed the heart of her need. Taliyah thought she’d go mad. The stupid contraption was coming off tonight. If desire got the better of him—it must—he would remove the belt.

Could she get him there? The challenge of it all was kind of...sexy.

Incredibly sexy.

Make him want you, future General, not the other way around.

Wait! The constant scrape of a chisel ceased. Had Roc finished his work for the day? Heart kicking into a wild beat, she hurried to the balcony and searched the gardens. The colossal hunk of rock remained, but she saw no sign of the Astra.

She averted her gaze, shifting her attention to the horizon, where his wall circled the city, a majestic but horrifying monstrosity. Did he walk the parapet? How long did she have before he hunted her?

What if he didn’t hunt her?

The door opened. As if her thoughts had conjured him, Roc stalked into the bedroom, master of the manor.

She whirled, facing him fully. He’d showered somewhere other than his bathroom. Interesting. He’d donned a shirt, covering the bulk of his alevala. That shirt did great things for him, stretching over broad shoulders and bulging muscles. Water droplets dampened his hair, a few beads clinging to long black lashes. Harsh features appeared more pronounced than usual, strain pulling his bronze skin taut.

He strained up good. Real good.

He stopped abruptly and perused her slowly. Tremors beset her limbs. Performance jitters, nothing more.

His expression remained neutral, but his hands fisted. “I’m told you prepared my dinner.”

My cue. Strolling closer, Taliyah motioned to the picnic. “My hubby