Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Chuckling, the siren rubbed against him. “You are loaded for bear, and I’m living for it. Rowr!”
He set her away and snapped, “If you’d like to keep your hands, do not touch me without permission.” And, all right, okay. Perhaps he understood Blythe’s violent reaction to his manhandling. Next time, he wanted her willing.
A bitter laugh lodged in his throat. As if she would ever be willing again.
“Sure, sure. Permission. Got it.” The siren winked, all innocence, not the least bit abashed or discouraged. “Hey, for no reason in particular, do you happen to have a safe word?”
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. How was he supposed to deal with the females of this land? “Just...try to keep up with me.”
He stalked off, not waiting for her response, tracking Blythe’s scent. He approached a crowd congregated around a bonfire.
To the siren’s credit, she followed without complaint.
“He’s here!” someone shouted.
The music stopped. Every female in the vicinity scrambled over, forming a circle around him. That circle tightened as the immortals drew closer. A chorus of “Dibs” accompanied dreamy sighs.
“I hear he’s a villain, not a hero,” someone said, and many of the sighs turned to purrs.
Then the women got serious, preparing to rush at him. Roux readied his claws.
“Don’t you dare touch! He’s mine tonight,” Monna screeched, the tenor of her voice different than before. “If you screw this up for me, I swear I’ll sing all of you into the flames.”
Sirens had an aptitude for compelling other species with their melodies, and hers struck him as far stronger than most.
Everyone scattered. A path opened up, and Roux increased his pace. There. A banshee was changing into the leather dress Blythe had carted from the room. Without thought, Roux flashed over, gripped the banshee by the throat and lifted her off her feet, constricting her airway before she was able to issue an ear-destroying death scream.
“What did you do to the harphantom?” he demanded. “Tell me!”
Her eyes bulged, and her face turned purple. Mouth floundering open and closed, she pointed a trembling finger in the direction he’d been headed.
He tightened his hold. “Did you harm her?”
“She didn’t,” a gorgon next to the banshee assured him. Despite her calm tone, the snakes growing from her head slithered and hissed with aggression. “All she did was snag the dress as your charge raced past us.”
Truth? “If you have lied, I will find you. Both of you. I’ll kill you and everyone you love.” He released his hostage, and she collapsed on the ground.
“So fierce!” someone squealed behind him.
Females! He kicked into gear. Things only grew worse from there as he and the siren journeyed across a hilly expanse. Monna used the opportunity to explain all the reasons he should sleep with her. Everything from scratching an itch to giving her the baby she’d dreamed of having for so long to proving “once you go siren, no others are worth admirin’.”
“Hey! Are you listening to me?” she whined. “I said this Monna knows how to make you moan. There’s no better time to demand I prove it. Hint, hint.”
Tracking, tracking. Dirt gave way to pink sand and mile after mile of abandoned desert. Though Blythe’s scent continued to provide a path, he never caught sight of her. Somehow, she remained at bay.
“What is located in this direction?” he asked, interrupting his date’s newest diatribe.
Monna gave a slight shudder. “Wraith Island.”
Ah. Blythe sought the individual who’d hobbled her. “How far is it? How many wraiths reside there?”
“Five hours or so on foot. And one wraith? Ten? A hundred? Who knows? Anyone foolish enough to venture onto the island is never seen or heard from again. Not even our queen attempts to rule the species. The wraiths govern themselves, led by Penelope the Husk Maker. She’s responsible for tagging your phantom, which means your phantom is now hers, and you’ll never get her back. You might as well forget her and focus on a different bedmate. Hey, here’s a totally random thought I’m offering for no particular reason. I’m very bendy.”
Husk Maker. Because she drained her victims dry?
Roux picked up the pace, jogging. Running. The citizens were right to avoid the wraiths; they were extremely dangerous. Oh, the damage this Penelope could do to Blythe...
The next hour passed in silence, wind kicking sand in every direction. The grains ruffled his hair, filled his nose, and pelted his skin, stinging like needles. Nothing he hadn’t borne before. The siren, on the other hand, began to lag, despite using his body as a shield. Was she deterred from flirting? Not even slightly.
Another hour passed, seeming to take an eternity and a blip at the same time as the landscape changed again. From sunny pink sands to dark and gloomy skies overlooking rock bundles.
“Do you have a mate at home?” Monna asked. “Is that how you’re able to resist all this?” She motioned to her admittedly lovely body.