The Warlord Gena Showalter (primary phonics TXT) 📖

had. Well, not as fervently as Roc. And not even to a degree anyone else would recognize. But she’d gotten to know the warriors, and their stoic acceptance screamed we adore you, o great one.

Once, Silver had marched up to her and groused, “Control your harpies.”

She’d winced for him. “Aw. Is the Astra not strong enough to handle the job?”

He’d stormed off and had glared at her ever since, which was Astra Speak for I think you’re amazing. Just ask Roc.

She’d had a similar experience with Halo. He’d stalked over to demand, “What have you done to my Commander?”

“Nothing,” she’d sworn. “I didn’t shoot him in the face again, I swear!”

He’d pinched the bridge of his nose, as if praying for patience. “I meant he’s smiling. Make it stop. It’s scaring the soldiers.”

As if she could.

When the warlord named Vasili had visited, she’d heard him mutter, “The Commander should spank you,” as he’d walked away from her.

She hadn’t hesitated to respond. “Why? Does he want to lose a hand? Silly man. Doesn’t he know I’ll remove it for free?”

In Taliyah’s spare time, she’d managed to forge a dagger with pieces of stone the phantoms had worn during their attack in the garden. She carried it always, hoping her father would dare to make an appearance.

Her desire to kill him flourished daily. The way he’d tortured her people... He must pay.

The harphantoms had recovered significantly, at least. They communicated without problem, and so far, they had refrained from feeding, filled up by the power Taliyah had released. But they were...feral. For everyone’s protection, Ian had moved them to the duplicate realm and brought the rest of the harpies here.

The two armies worked well together, when they weren’t bickering. Would both groups be forced to watch as either Taliyah or Roc lost everything during the ceremony?

Stomach churning, she hunted for her husband. She found him standing before the altar, simply peering at the stupid thing, his expression dark and brooding.

The churning worsened as she slipped her hand into his. His posture immediately softened. So did his expression.

He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed. “I missed you, love.”

Love. She chewed on her bottom lip. “What are we going to do, Roc?” Worry poured from her. So often lately, she’d felt as if she swung from a pendulum, one side panic, the other hope. Mostly, she’d felt as if the weight of the world balanced on her shoulders.

No, that wasn’t true anymore. She no longer carried the weight alone. Roc bore the other half.

“We’re no closer to a solution,” she said. “There’s no way around the curse. For a sacrifice to gain acceptance, someone’s gotta give up something for a better cause. The more the object means to you, the more power your gesture generates.” Before Taliyah, he hadn’t known his brides, and he hadn’t cared for them. He hadn’t longed for their return. “For the first time, the loss of a wife will matter to you. You care, and you’ll long for me after I’m gone. This will be a true sacrifice. That’s why you’ll ascend.”

Today, she’d thought more about her sacrifice. Willingly dying the last death to aid the Astra. Not just Roc, but all Astra. She was their queen now. As much as she owed the harpies, she owed the warlords. Men who would look after her harpies long after she was gone.

“I don’t think you understand, Taya.” Night had fallen, a new storm brewing in the distance. Lightning flashed, highlighting sinister features. Thunder rumbled, shaking the whole realm and every dimension in between, she was sure. Leaves gusted about, spiraling this way and that, as if the world reacted to his mood. “If you die, I will follow.”

“No!” The thought of death repelled her. Die? She loathed the very idea. But she loathed the idea of Roc’s death even more. He’d come to mean so much to her in so little time.

How could he not? The man cherished and challenged her. He made her feel as though she lived for the first time. If she had a need, he met it. If she had a want, he provided it. If she were injured in any way, he raged, then kissed her to make it all better.

She feared for anyone who harmed her, anyone who attempted to harm her and anyone who even briefly considered harming her. “You’re not going to die. I’m not going to die.” They weren’t there yet. “What are we missing?”

A brighter flash of lightning couched his face in an eerie haze of shadow and illumination. When minutes dragged by and he said nothing, she released his hand to pace before him.

“We must be missing something,” she chattered. “But what?”

Roc flashed in front of her. She crashed into his chest, unable to stop her momentum, and he banded his strong arms around her. He held her, just held her, and the frantic energy seeped from her, leaving her exhausted.

She couldn’t fight his embrace and didn’t want to; Taliyah sagged against him, resting her head on his capable shoulder.

Roc didn’t falter. He held her steady.

Finally he spoke, his voice rougher than sandpaper. “Nothing will separate us. Not now, not ever.”

36

One day until the final ceremony. A mere twenty-four hours. No closer to a solution. Standing on his balcony, peering out at the garden—the altar—Roc pulled at his hair, his frustration razor-sharp. He’d failed his wife.

He had no one to blame but himself. He alone had put Taliyah in this situation. Now he cursed his arrogance. Too strong to resist temptation? Him? Hardly. He’d lost the war the moment he’d first spied her; he just hadn’t known it.

He wished Solar were here. He would beg for his Commander’s forgiveness. I’m so sorry, brother. I didn’t know. Forgive me.

Roc hated Erebus. He disdained Chaos. But Roc despised himself the most.

All around, wind blustered and lightning flashed. The newest storm had yet to break. He could relate: he struggled to contain the worst of his emotions, even now.

Erebus