The Warlord Gena Showalter (primary phonics TXT) 📖

all his inner demons at once. Her heart raced, desire for him surging, never far from the surface. She longed for him, all of him. She always longed for him. Taliyah coveted every experience life offered, nothing held back. But...

But what? Never accept a picture of defeat.

The mantra beat through her head, unleashing a new flood of righteous indignation. Why couldn’t she have everything she wanted? Just because she didn’t have solutions for her problems didn’t mean those solutions didn’t exist. The problems were not insurmountable. Nothing was.

If she fought hard enough, she could forge a new army of harpies. And she should!

Want something different, do something different.

This was an opportunity for harpies to choose their own futures. To stick with the old ways, what they knew, or reset with different—better—rules. They knew what aided, and what hurt. Those who decided to follow her could. Those who opted out shouldn’t. She could rule her own army and have her man. Her...consort.

The truth infiltrated every cell, and she could deny it no longer. Roc Phaethon was her consort, her man, and she thought she might be falling in love with him. The unshakable warlord who shook from bad dreams and his woman’s touch. The Commander who’d always craved a family of his own.

Satisfaction took root inside her, no longer a fleeting thing but a permanent part of her makeup. It grew and grew, internal cracks quickly filling, broken things mending.

This was her path. She knew it was. Never had she been so certain.

She and Roc were only doomed if they gave up.

Thunder cracked, pulling her from her thoughts, and more lightning flashed. Taliyah straightened, perfectly balanced on the rail as wind danced her hair around her face.

Roc had ceased chiseling. He leaned his head into his hands. A position of agony. Of despair. As much as she needed him, he needed her. She required this man, and she would have him.

Decision made.

There was no need to worry about a possible pregnancy: harpies were only fertile at certain times. The only question now? Tell him about Erebus before or after?

The man she’d grown to admire wouldn’t fault her for her parentage. He just...wouldn’t. But either way, he deserved to know before they took this final step together.

Why wait? She wore a halter and pleated skirt; she was ready for war. No matter her foe.

Though she battled apprehension, Taliyah stepped from the railing, falling, falling, landing in a crouch. The time had come.

Roc sensed Taliyah’s presence. He always sensed her presence. He always wanted her and he always needed her, and he’d grown to hate himself for it. Asking her to abandon her dreams had been wrong. Especially when he’d found no way to circumvent the curse. No way to escape this living nightmare.

The more time he spent with the woman, the more he liked her. The more he liked her, the more hopeless their situation seemed. And he had no one to blame but himself.

He remembered how confident he’d been with Chaos. I will kill her.

How could he ever bring himself to kill her?

Keeping his back to her, he called, “This isn’t a good time, Taliyah.” The past few days, Erebus’s message to her had played on constant repeat in Roc’s head. Give up her dream. And for what?

“I don’t care. I will have you. All of you. I’m done waiting.”

What? Roc whipped around, the tool falling from his hand. The next flash of lightning revealed a harpy warrior with ocean-water eyes set aflame. “All?” No. Pick up your tool. Turn around. Do your work. Don’t make her choose between her future and yours. Let her grow to hate him? No. Then he’d hate himself more.

“All,” Taliyah confirmed. “But you gotta take all of me, too.” She shifted, as if uncomfortable. “I...I’m ready to tell you my connection to Erebus.”

In his chest, old cracks spread, creating new ones. Since their date, they’d spoken only of innocent things. Moments in their pasts, teases and taunts. “You can tell me,” he assured her. Whatever she said, he wouldn’t care. Nothing mattered but the woman herself. A woman who demanded her right to him...

Am I truly to have her? “Tell me.”

“He...he’s my father. He possessed his brother, and they were with my mother. Together. They’re both my fathers. It’s complicated. The reality is confusing but true.”

“Possession,” he said, with a nod. He should have guessed. The brothers had always been close. But this meant... Roc went rigid. Chaos had willingly sacrificed his own granddaughter.

The father who had refused to abandon his son, no matter the vileness of his crimes... The mentor who had refused to pick between his son and his guards... The god Roc had faithfully served for eons had thrown his own family to the wolves.

If he could do such a thing to the indomitable Taliyah, what would he do to the Astra?

“I promise I’m not working with him,” she said in a rush. “I’ve only spoken to him once, and you already know what we discussed.”

“I trust you, Taliyah.” He fought hard to temper his rage, lest she mistake the source. “We aren’t our parents. I despise my own.”

“So...” She glanced at him through the thick shield of her lashes, almost shy. “You still wish to be with me?”

“I want to be with you more than anything.” He took a step toward her, then stopped. “But your dream...” How could he steal it from her? How? “I never should have asked you for this. I’ve taken so much already. I can’t take this, too.”

“You’re not taking anything. I’m giving. And I’m going to be harpy General. I’ve decided I can bed whomever I please.”

His chest threatened to burst. Magnificent female. No lovelier sight.

Nothing could stop Roc from closing the distance. The moment he reached her, he clamped her by the nape and waist and yanked her against him. As she gasped, he fused his mouth to hers.

What the—

Roc had let his beast out of its mental cage, and Taliyah loved