The Dawn of the End Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
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“Cass,” she whispered.

“I meant what I said.”

“As did I.”

“My world comes in three parts, you, Aelia and Dora.”

She pushed her face deeper into his neck.

“I cannot speak the words,” he admitted on a whisper.

“You do not need to, my prince. I know.”

His relief was so great, it felt beyond physical, right to spiritual.

Indeed, he wondered if there were gods.

Or if there was this.

“Do you know?” she asked tentatively.

Gently, he used her hair to pull her head back and find her gaze.

“I think I knew the moment you laid eyes on me,” he murmured. “And it terrified me.”

She stroked his beard and smiled with her eyes.

He would not object to lying in that bed with her forever.

Especially not in that moment.

Sadly, that was not an option, not that day.

“We have things to do, my princess,” he remined her.

Her “Yes,” seemed forced from her throat, very unwillingly.

“It will happen and then it will be done,” he soothed.

“It is I who should be reassuring you,” she replied.

“You do that often, I quite like having a turn.”

He received a smile at that, and he let himself enjoy it before his hands on her became a grip so he could take them from the bed.

But in return, she gripped him.

Cassius stilled and gave her his attention.

“There might be…a few changes…” she started haltingly. “In the throne room.”

He could not believe it was about to happen, as he could never believe it was about to happen, and he wondered if there would be a time in his life when this was so commonplace, his disbelief would be extinguished.

But he felt laughter bubbling inside him.

“What did you do?”

“Well…” When he gave her hips a squeeze with his fingers, she stopped dawdling. “I might be subtly changing some of Airen’s banners from black to midnight blue,” she admitted.

This was not barracks torn down to enhance greenhouses, so he had no quarrel with this.

“That is not a big change.”

“And silver,” she added.

That was when the chuckles started.

“There might also be some purples,” she went on.

“How very Nadirii of you,” he muttered.

“It’s a darker purple,” she informed him.

“Right,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Though there might be some that is much like the heather and thistle flower that grows so in Airen,” she mumbled.

It was that which made him shake with laughter.

When he was finished, she was smiling at him.

He gave her a squeeze for he knew her ploy.

And this was why he said, “Job well done, my lamb.”

Her eyes twinkled.

Cassius allowed himself to enjoy that too.

Before he pulled them from the bed.

“I…well, bloody hell, I’m speechless,” Mac said, wandering into the vast space of the throne room, eyes big, body drifting and shifting as he moved into the room and took it all in.

“Then we should ask Ellie to be certain to make changes in every room of the Citadel, if that’s your reaction,” Ian replied.

“I vote for that,” Rus said.

“And I,” Tone agreed.

Cassius just stood at the back, arms crossed on his chest, feet planted on the midnight blue carpet over the black stone floor, and he moved his gaze about the space.

Before, there were no carpets on the floor.

And before, the rest had all been black.

Now, between the windows there were long pennants hanging, each a different color, all the colors of a night sky, ranging from the deepest blues and purples, to what Ellie had said. A purple the color of a thistle flower.

But the backdrop of the dais behind his throne included two thin pennants that flanked a wider one which was directly behind the throne. The thin ones were ombre from sky blue at the top, to midnight blue at the bottom, with all the colors depicted around the room in between.

The standard behind the throne simply looked like a night sky, silver stars twinkling in it.

The throne itself was not the one in which his father sat.

Less ornate, also less intimidating, it was nevertheless elaborate, the carved wood painted a shining silver, the velvet cushions in sky blue.

The floors were covered in carpets of a variety of hues that mimicked the pennants.

There were two curving settees upholstered in a thistle-colored damask that sat at slight angles to the front of the dais.

Cassius moved deeper into the room when he saw, off to the side, looking as if it was not a permanent fixture, a tall box set on a platform draped with black bunting.

He could see the top of a chair over the railings perched high inside the box.

Apparently, his father, the accused, would look down from it.

Or, as Cassius had no doubt Elena intended, he would be separate from all the others.

And on display.

Ah, but he had a clever future wife.

As if in his mind, Nero, standing by the box, called out, “I’m liking this idea.”

“This is good, for I would like you to stand guard at it.”


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