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)
In a world of pain and darkness, she’d been a vision of softness and light.
If the mistress had been a taste of grace, Blythe was an entire meal. The harphantom never looked as if she walked; she appeared to float.
“You can try,” he told her, “but you will only waste your time. I’ve lived too long and survived too much.”
“I’ll see your denial and raise you two fingers.” She lifted both hands and flipped him the bird.
He swallowed a sigh. “Is there anything I can do to appease your—”
“Nope,” she interjected. Her firm tone offered no wiggle room. “I’ll only hate you more if you try.”
Frustration gripped him. He wasn’t used to failure.
A muted scream suddenly filled every chamber of his mind. He stiffened. Someone had escaped his mental dungeon.
If Roux didn’t act, other prisoners might follow suit. If he did perform a search and grab, however, he would have to retreat in his mind. A state many of the Astra referred to as “Roo Coo.”
Cut short his time with Blythe? No. “Do you expect me to continue allowing your attacks?”
“Hey, that’s a hundred percent on you. You’re free to stop me anytime. If you can.” The harphantom tilted her head, studying him. “Have you ever lost someone you loved?”
Inside, his breath hitched. Blank mask secure. Never reveal an emotion. A lesson he’d learned well as a child. Anything you felt could and would be used against you.
“I have, yes.” He punctuated the words with a nod. “Your father killed my brethren and my old Commander.” Erebus might not have taken the former leader’s head, but he was still responsible for the male’s death. “I miss them every day.” The family he’d built was now forever incomplete...much like Blythe’s.
He almost flinched.
Her mind must have traveled a similar path. Her irises turned black again. She swiped out her claws, intending to take another kidney.
Roux caught her wrist, stopping her at the last possible second. “Do yourself a favor and put your grievance with me on hold. The next blessing task nears. Erebus is soon to challenge a new warlord, and I won’t tolerate interference from you.”
“Give me a minute to etch that pearl in my memory bank. Roux won’t tolerate interference. He suggests I forget my vendetta against him until he and his buddies successfully defeat my father and ascend, gaining more power and living their dream. Got it.”
“I didn’t utter a suggestion,” he grated.
The corners of her soft pink mouth curled up, and his guts tightened. Uh-oh. He knew that look. Knew trouble came next.
“You know,” she said, sounding contemplative, “if you hadn’t murdered the male I loved, we probably would’ve been friends. But you did. And we’re not. And for some reason, I’ve only gotten to see him once, so I’m cranky.” Swipe.
She used her free hand to snag a kidney. “Four,” she said, droplets of crimson falling from her hand. “In case you’re wondering, it was just as satisfying as I’d anticipated.”
The blip of pain should have heralded a brutal retaliation to prove he meant business. Instead, he growled and spun her into the wall, marveling over a spike of excitement.
Excitement. As if they were playing some sort of game.
Their gazes met, and he heated another twenty degrees.
“Do not push me, harpy.”
The organ splattered on the floor. “Or what, Astra?” Smirking up at him, she vanished. Not flashing but misting, as only her kind could do.
The urge to hunt her down choked Roux. To press her against another wall and...do something. With his hands. His mouth.
Once again, frustration rose to the forefront, overtaking him. He needed to get this female out of his head. Somehow. Soon.
4
THE GOODBYE
Blythe trailed Roux, slinking through a lavishly decorated corridor in the Harpinian palace. He turned a corner, heading for his bedroom, and three of her father’s phantoms came into view. Their skin was pallid, their eyes milky while. As usual, Erebus had sent females he’d dressed in ragged widow’s weeds.
The trio walked in a circle at the far end of the hall, directly in front of Roux’s door. With monotone voices, they chanted, “Wait for Roux, tell Roux, laugh. Wait for Roux, tell Roux, laugh.”
They spoke the order that had been issued by their maker, Blythe’s father. And they would obey every action to the letter.
How Daddy Undearest loved to sneak his minions past Astra defenses. Not to inflict physical injury. No. Such small groups of phantoms could do little damage to such powerful males. Erebus did it to wreak havoc in their minds. And it worked. Roux stiffened and withdrew a dagger.
That weapon! Trinite. Hissing, Blythe stumbled back a step.
As soon as the creatures sensed the Astra, they pivoted in unison, facing him, and tilted their heads to the side. They were nothing like Blythe. She had free will; they did not. They could do nothing unless commanded by Erebus. A terrible fate they had not deserved.