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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Which Mars had deemed was now.

He nodded, strode through the vestibule, turning left to head to his throne room.

He took but two steps before he stopped short and saw nothing but red.

This was because, at the far end of the hall, at the opened doors to his throne room, stood his wife peering around the doorjamb, a hazy shimmer all about her.

She’d pulled her shadow over her.

And she was spying.

His blood coursing hot through his veins, he stalked down the hall. The sounds of his boots hitting the floor were stifled by the thick rugs, and his queen was so involved in her occupation, she did not sense him until the last minute.

When she did, she turned, looked up at him, began to smile, but halted in offering that to him when she caught a look at his face.

“Go to our chambers, now,” he whispered.

“Mars, I—”

“You will go, or I will find a man to escort you, and I will instruct him to lock you in.”

Her head jerked in surprise and her expression began to shift again but he did not have the patience to deal with whatever it would become.

“Do not try me, Silence. Go.” He drew in a deep breath and finished, “Now.”

She took in his face, hers settled to impassive, before she moved around him.

The shimmer remained about her as there were guards stationed down that hall and it might be strange to see their king appearing to be conversing with nothing, but it would be far stranger, watching their queen form out of thin air.

As such, Silence hurried down the hall.

He watched her, still controlling his breathing, before he moved into the room where the barons awaited him.

Mars took his throne. He shared news they needed to hear regarding what had happened in Wodell and what was happening in Firenze. He answered questions, including ones put to him about the state of Farah, for the baron of her clan was there.

The man seemed concerned but was mollified at hearing Mars report she was not only now the Queen of Wodell, but also the Dellish were most enamored of her, though not nearly as much as her new king.

He then cut the meeting short and left the men in the room as he walked out, his strides long but unhurried, his deep inward and outward breaths his main focus.

However, he took the steps of the staircase three at a time and wasted no more of it as he moved down the hall to his and his queen’s chambers.

He entered them, their large bath before him, and he looked right to their bedchamber.

He then looked left to their sitting room and saw her standing at the side of his desk on the far end.

He walked into the room, distractedly noting that she and her maid Tril had concocted yet another remarkable gown that was not the bejeweled brassiere and waistband above sheers that fell over her legs that was worn by the female Firenz.

Instead, it was a filmy creation in a shade of apricot that covered only one shoulder in an elegant gathering of material, leaving the other bare, and it had a deep slit up one side of the hem that would expose her leg as she walked.

Her hair was caught up in a graceful bunch of curls at the back, the front adorned with thin braids across her crown.

This was not Firenz.

It was not Dellish.

It was Silence.

And it was stunning.

He had no mind to that. He would pay mind to it later.

Now, he had his mind on one thing.

He stopped five feet from her and asked, “What did you think you were doing?”

She opened her mouth but shut it when he lifted his hand, palm her way and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I do not care. Don’t do it again.”

“But, Mars—” she began, and at her sweet, quiet voice, one of the myriad things he loved about her, one of the myriad things he would miss unrelentingly if she was taken from him, he lost the control he had been carefully holding when red again covered his vision as his blood scoured through his veins.

Thus, he leaned her way and thundered, “Do not ever do it again!”

She stood motionless before him, her eyes locked to his.

“I cannot even begin to entertain how fucking, bloody foolish that was,” he bit. “What if one of them could see through your shadow?”

“They could not,” she said quietly.

“And you know this?”

She lifted her chin. “I tested it.”

He fisted his hands at these words, not about to entertain thoughts on how she’d done that either.

“Do not do it again,” he growled.

His wife did not speak.

“Did you hear me, Silence?” he demanded.

“It would be hard not to, my king, for you shouted it at me,” she returned.

“I did indeed, for I had been kind earlier. It wasn’t foolish, Silence, it was stupid. And it was stupid because it was dangerous, and it was unnecessary. There is naught those men would say to each other in that chamber that I would need to know.”


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