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)
“Not until we finish our conversation.” Scowling, radiating sexual frustration and iron-hard determination, he gripped the damaged arms of his chair.
“There’s nothing else to say.”
They glared at each other, both struggling to inhale, exhale. Something!
Tremors overtook her. Afraid of what her expression revealed, she turned and strode to the closet to dress for battle.
“Perhaps Penelope has made trouble for you at last,” she said, strapping on a leather uniform and tying combat boots to her feet. A girl could hope, anyway.
“Perhaps,” he intoned, standing and donning a fresh T-shirt. “Stay here. I’ll return shortly.”
Let him leave without her? Not happening. “I’m going with you. I’ll act as your bodyguard.” To prove she meant business, Blythe strutted over, smiled, and clawed out his throat with a swift swipe. “Two. See? Your reflexes are off. You require protecting.”
His scowl might have softened the tiniest degree. Amusement might have glittered in his eyes. She might have softened. A surprising outcome.
“Very well,” he said.
Spirits restored, she smirked and tossed the organ into the hearth, then wiped off her hands on his shirt. With a spring in her step, she strode to the door, opening up to the siren. “We’re ready to dazzle at the council meeting. Lead the way.”
* * *
Roux did his best to remain alert, but he struggled to maintain his composure. He followed his harphantom down the empty, winding hallway.
As she trailed the siren, the graceful sway of her hips beckoned his gaze as if it belonged there. Maybe it did. There was an old adage among the Astra. If you touched it, you owned it. He’d had his hands right there and there and there.
With a little more time, Roux might have brought Blythe to a climax. She’d been close; he’d sensed it. What he wouldn’t give to see her delicate features soften with the satisfaction he had bestowed.
He rubbed his throbbing fly. What other delights had he missed, thanks to the siren’s interruption? Holding Blythe’s soft, pliant body afterward? Sharing more about his life, encouraging her to share more about hers? Comradery? Belonging?
Now wasn’t the time for regrets. No doubt he was headed to some kind of setup.
Roux sighed. He should have spied on the citizens of Ation more than once. Should’ve explored the amphitheater beneath the palace more than once, too. Hadn’t the Commander told him to beware of some kind of monster? Not that Roux had spotted any sign of vicious beasts down there.
Instead of furthering his cause, he’d spent the bulk of his time considering Blythe. Just like he was doing now. But how could he not? She seemed to be fashioned for him alone. No one had ever fit him so perfectly. And at times, she wanted him, too.
He’d begun to think she might be the missing puzzle piece of his life. Or the prize of prizes he deserved after surviving centuries of horror and pain. Problem was, he didn’t deserve her.
But he craved her, anyway. He needed to learn the taste of her lips. Soon. He dreamed of tossing her onto her back and doing things. Soft things. Rough things. All things. He planned to start at her mouth, dabble at those plump breasts with their irresistible amber crests, and work his way down. Then back up. Then down again. He wouldn’t stop until she shattered. Or he did.
Inside him, pressure mounted, nearly unbearable, and a growl rumbled in his chest. If he failed to find relief soon, he might end up tearing this palace to shreds.
How could he win her? How? She might want him, but she didn’t like him. He liked her far too much. Liked her unwavering determination to avenge those she loved. Her unshakable fortitude to oversee a goal. The way she teased him. Played with him.
A shrill scream echoed inside his head, the loose prisoner making himself known.
Enough! Determined to stop the intrusion at last, Roux drew to a halt and retreated into his mind...there! An unauthorized shadow, slinking away. He gave chase, resolute. He would learn the being’s identity and lock him up or die—
“Warden? Yo! Rue. Your presence is requested.”
Blythe! Was something wrong? Yanked from the chase, Roux blinked into awareness. Frowned. The harpy stood directly in front of him, and she was patting his cheek.
Pale blue eyes offered...was that concern? “What happened? Where’d you go?”
He’d stopped in the middle of the hall, he realized, without allowing his instincts to take over. Anyone could have attacked him with any weapon, and he would’ve been unable to stop them.
Why would he allow such a travesty? Because deep down he wanted Blythe to touch him? Or was some part of him beginning to trust her? If his instincts no longer considered her a threat...
This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. In Ation, Blythe the Undoing was his only threat.