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)
To remove her new bling, Blythe must truly forgive Roux for his crimes against her family. But how could she forgive him, even temporarily?
He and his brethren deserved to suffer. No other outcome was acceptable. But, at the rate she was currently draining, she might die without reviving.
“Are we there yet?” she whined, and not just to be annoying.
“Unfortunately for you, we are.” Penelope pointed ahead to an overcast area where a group of large rocks formed a wide circle. Reminded Blythe of Stonehenge in the mortal realm.
Twenty females congregated there, some perched atop the rocks, others standing guard outside the circle. She clocked two shifters, three vampires seemingly unbothered by the sunlight, six Amazons, one gorgon, five sirens, two harpies, and a manticore, who didn’t look like some fragile thing in need of a man’s protection, but a hardened warrior.
Blythe’s gaze lingered on the manticore’s golden mane. A lump clogged her throat. The ruby heated, and more of her strength whooshed away.
Each being wore a leather half top and short, slitted skirt, putting their weapons on display. A stunning, scarlet-haired vampire with green eyes bore a crown fashioned from black crystals. The Ation queen?
Harpies and vampires shared an ancestor. Thanks to a violent history, the two species rarely got along.
When Penelope and Amal halted before the guards, the suspected queen stepped from her rock, zipping to the ground and executing a graceful landing. As she approached the wraith, another vampire and an Amazon joined her, flanking her sides.
“This is our insurance policy?” The potential queen looked Blythe over and grimaced, clearly unimpressed. And who could blame her? There was nothing more humiliating than being caught in chains. “It’s so...delicate.” She shuddered.
It? Blythe’s wings fluttered. “Careful, babe. This insurance policy comes with hidden fees.” Blythe inwardly grimaced. Okay, so, as far as comebacks went, that one sucked. In her defense—no, she had no defense. She should be better at this, and it was her fault she’d gone soft the past eight years.
Snickers blended with murmurs of doubt. The doubt came from the harpies. Who should have rushed to vindicate Blythe. The sisterhood stuck together against all others, always, whether they knew each other or not. Or rather, they did in Harpina. But she wasn’t in Harpina anymore, was she?
Teeth grinding, Blythe shifted her focus to the rocks. Hmm. Up close, she noticed blood-smeared carvings. Strange symbols she didn’t recognize. Power wafted from each, prodding her curiosity.
“This chick isn’t a prize,” the fairest of the harpies said. “She’s a participation ribbon.”
Hold up. Insurance policy. Chick. Participation ribbon. Why did an ancient civilization of criminals sound so modern?
Penelope seemed to read her mind. Fluffing her hair, she said, “I acquired a collection of romance novels featuring the original heartbreakers and often read them to the masses. For a price. I suggest you put your name on the attendees’ list ASAP. We fill up fast.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
The vampire with the crown held up a hand in a bid for silence—and she got it. Oh, yes. The queen. “Answer my question, wraith.”
“I am one hundred percent certain she’s the one you seek,” Penelope said. “I’ve been assured the Astra will agree to your demands in order to save her life.”
“Why?” the queen asked. “Is she his mate?”
“No,” Blythe snarled, unable to hold her tongue. Let anyone think she belonged with Laban’s killer? Never! “I’m his doom.”
Once again, snickers sounded. Someone even mocked her. “I’m his doom.”
“Ah, how cute is she?” The gorgon jumped up and down and clapped. “This phantom isn’t as mindless as we heard.”
So. They saw her as a phantom, not a harpy or even a combination of the two.
“Her sister is wed to the Astra’s king,” Penelope explained. “The warrior headed here is supposed to save her while completing his blessing task.”
Well. Everyone had been fully briefed about the intricacies of the situation. And Roux, save her? Hardly. He’d be too busy dying.
Satisfaction played over the queen’s elegant features. Everyone else attempted to mask their excitement but failed.
For some reason, this infuriated the vampire. “Do not forget,” she snapped at the group. “He’s mine.”
“Wrong. He’s mine.” The Amazon at the queen’s side moved as fast as lightning, swinging a sword, swiftly beheading the vampire. She swooped down to swipe the crystal crown from the grass. As she straightened, she settled the circlet atop her head.
The violence didn’t disturb Blythe. She’d seen worse a thousand times over. She’d done worse. But wow. Just wow.
There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed what had happened. Then a chorus of cheers erupted, but they sounded anything but cheerful. Blythe detected grumbles and bored tones.
“All hail Sheena,” the women cried, “the new queen of Ation.”
Sheena preened. She was a dark beauty, at least six feet tall, and marked with scars along each arm. “I’ll be attending your next reading free of charge,” she told Penelope.