The Warlord Gena Showalter (primary phonics TXT) 📖

almost closed the distance. Almost dragged her into his arms. The need to hold and touch her refused to fade.

Ian frowned at her, then Roc, then Taliyah again. His brother didn’t know what to make of what had just happened—what was still happening. Neither did Roc.

Ultimately, Ian settled on Roc. Incredulous, he thrust a small purple stone in his hand.

“What am I looking at?” he asked, rubbing the stone. Dense. Rough. Powerful. Familiar. His brows drew together as cold spread over him. “No. I cannot be holding what I think I’m holding. We destroyed the last piece thousands of years ago.”

Ian’s expression acquired a grave edge. “Apparently, Erebus found more. He hung the stones from a leather cord.”

“Someone tell the rest of the class,” Taliyah said, tossing up her arms.

“This is firstone. What trinite does to a phantom, firstone does to an Astra. It’s the reason we couldn’t flash during combat.”

Ian gaped at him. “Why don’t you make a list of the few ways to kill us and help your bride study it, brother?”

“Because he isn’t a tool?” Taliyah asked calmly. “Not all the time, anyway.”

Roc replied to neither of them, his mind whirling. Erebus had sent these hordes as a warning shot. He wanted Roc worried. Which meant Roc shouldn’t worry. He should enjoy his wife.

His brother said something else, but Roc lost track, too busy observing Taliyah, who unabashedly amassed a sizable firstone collection in a matter of minutes, stuffing the pebbles in the pockets of her shorts. She wasn’t even trying to hide her actions. When she came upon the wing-pinner, she grew rigid before bending down to gather the pieces.

She whipped around to face him, their eyes meeting. Pure defiance, she hurled the metal as far as harpily possible, daring him to complain.

Hobble her again? No. Something had happened to Roc during the battle. Something significant. He didn’t yet understand the intricacies or complications of it, whatever it was, but he knew his relationship with Taliyah was forever altered. If he had lost her today...

He stalked to her, removed the wrist cuffs and hefted her into his arms, carrying her straight to their bedroom.

28

As the Astra drew a bath, Taliyah remained in the doorway of the bathroom, caught up in an unexpected quandary. She and Roc had reached new territory today. Like, serious couple territory. She knew it. The metal was no longer an issue. They were past it. Roc was choosing to trust her to keep her end of the original bargain and stay put to fight him.

He had killed and bled for her.

He desired her more intensely than anyone else ever had.

He longed to save her. She knew that, too.

The brutal way he’d dispensed of the phantoms to rescue her... Had any male ever looked so sinfully seductive while exuding such evil intent? The warlord had attacked their foes so viciously, so savagely, he’d morphed into the monster her mother had warned her about. More frightening than the hordes—and okay, yeah, the creepiness of the phantoms had taken her by surprise. Mouths with hundreds of tiny suction cups remained wide open, at the ready.

The fiends had iced her brand, just as Erebus had. They’d attempted to feed on her. Her. One of their own. Well, almost one of their own. She was nothing like those ravenous shells.

No, not true. She was absolutely, positively ravenous. Already she could taste Roc’s power...

As soon as the number of invaders had dwindled, she’d had the distinct privilege of watching him. He’d awed her. The mastery he’d demonstrated over his body had been so complete, the fight appeared choreographed. He’d known when to go high and when to shift low, displaying the perfect ebb and flow of offense and defense.

The way he’d used his claws and three-blade to tear his victims into too many pieces to identify had been a real eye-opener for Taliyah. As skilled as she was, she realized she stood no chance against him—yet. He was faster, moving at warp speed. He was stronger by leaps and bounds. Anyone who’d come into contact with his otherworldly glow had caught fire. Not with literal flames, but mystical. So, anyone who’d come into contact with his otherworldly glow had died in unbelievable agony.

And this is the male I’ve challenged? She would have preened, if tears hadn’t welled.

He didn’t know Erebus was her father. While she refused to lie, she wasn’t ready to tell him. Not yet. This—whatever this was—was too new, her trust not yet fully established.

How would Roc react to the news?

So badly she yearned to hurl herself at him and demand everything he had to give, parting with her virginity, forgetting the complications, shedding the past and grabbing hold of the future. But she wouldn’t.

Now more than ever, harpies required a strong leader. The strongest. Enemies they’d never before faced lurked about—enemies only the granddaughter of a god could take down.

If other Generals can resist temptation, so can I.

Would Roc understand? After today, she knew there was no way he would sacrifice her. Disgust for her origins? He had none, not any longer. The man had killed hundreds of phantoms to reach her, shouting her name in panic, erupting into those mystical flames when she got injured.

Which was great—for her. But she kinda sorta didn’t want him and his men cursed, either.

Before, she’d toyed with the idea of being with him for a few months or so. To be honest, the option hadn’t really struck her as a true possibility until Roc had willingly released her from the metal. Now he had.

What should she do? Take what she could, while she could?

If Roc upended his entire world for her, he would demand everything. She had no doubts about that. He would never be satisfied with a temporary arrangement, and he certainly wouldn’t agree to a sexless pairing.

If the Astra were anything like the demon-possessed Lords of the Underworld her sisters scored, they were possessive and obsessive to the extreme. So. Yeah. Roc would insist on