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)
Except, why should he be allowed to experience a single moment of pleasure? And why should she let him call the shots? It was bad enough that the females of this world already believed Blythe required a male to fight her battles for her. A humiliating truth she would rectify as soon as possible all by her lonesome.
Yeah, she’d made a mistake earlier, thinking to use him to slay Penelope on her behalf. Eight years out of practice had screwed with Blythe’s brain, that was all. If she couldn’t defend the honor of her family and harpies in general, no matter the odds stacked against her, all in the name of vengeance, she didn’t deserve the nine stars decorating her wrist.
Another series of raps came, followed by another and another. No way was Blythe sticking around, bowing to his dictates, and making things easy for him. Let him spend his date searching for “the sister of his Commander’s gravita.”
“Ready or not, I’m entering,” the siren called, her patience gone. She kicked at the door. Hinges pulled, and wood split. “I’m Monna, by the way.”
“Enjoy your night. Or not.” Knowing she wouldn’t survive her next actions if she reactivated the link to Penelope, Blythe buried every ounce of her hatred. A bandage to a hemorrhaging wound that wouldn’t hold for long.
“Harpy,” he rasped. “What are you planning?”
She grinned, earning a double blink. And okay, yes, without the hatred coloring her perception, she couldn’t deny the reaction appealed to her. Or that his powerful body stole her breath. Of course, she liked looking at lightning, too. That didn’t mean she should reach out and grab it.
Splinters rained from the door frame. Any second the siren would breach the perimeter.
“Catch me if you can, Rue.” Blythe blew him a kiss, spun on her heel, and sprinted toward the windows. With the dress clutched close, she dived through an opening, soaring into the night.
9
THE CHASE
“No!” Roux teleported to the window and leaned out, reaching—“No,” he repeated as he swiped air.
His gaze cut through the darkness, Blythe’s descent as clear as if halogens spotlighted her. In a split second, he calculated her trajectory. Then he materialized in the exact spot she was to land, intending to catch her—a curse exploded from him. He hadn’t moved an inch. Thanks to his oath to stick near his dates, the ability to teleport deserted him.
All he could do was watch as the harphantom hurled toward the ground.
Foolish woman! Why would she do this? Did she want to hurt? She had wings, yes, but they were tiny and not meant for flight.
A patter of footsteps let him know his date had entered the room. He cared not, keeping his attention fixed on the harpy. Despite the ruby and its weakening effects, Blythe managed to land with great ease and grace, rolling to her feet. Relief engulfed him.
She paused and craned her neck. Meeting his gaze, she bestowed another diabolical smile upon him and extended her middle finger in the air.
Like a bullet, she shot off, disappearing in the masses. Many more immortals than he’d counted upon his arrival to the royal lands. They celebrated around a bonfire, playing music, laughing, and fighting viciously.
“Don’t mind me,” his date cooed. “I’m just admiring the view.”
He pivoted on his booted heel. She stood merely two feet away, wearing something akin to a mortal bikini. The lovely black siren with curves for days had helped save Blythe; he’d thought to honor her by choosing her first, not encourage her advances.
Although, if he responded to her touch the same way he’d responded to Blythe’s, the date might go differently than he’d anticipated. After he caught the harpy. Which he would do.
He swiped out his arm and grabbed the siren’s bicep. “Come.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” She wiggled her brows at him. “I assure you, that’s why I’m here.”
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he transported her to Blythe’s landing spot. He could flash only within the realm itself, and only to places he’d seen. “For this date, we’ll be traveling at lightning-fast speeds and hunting a harphantom.”
“Ohhh. An adventure. I’m impressed. I’m also all in.” She melted against him and traced her hands up his chest. “By the way, you can be all in, too, if you know what I mean.”
The contact aggravated his sensitized skin, and he stiffened. Why respond as usual with this stunning female when, only minutes before, he’d luxuriated in blissful contact with Blythe? A woman who despised him. Except when she lost her memory and ate him up with her eyes.
With the memory, his muscles bulged, burned, and hardened. His leathers pulled tight.
Roux scowled. Why did he crave her touch, and hers alone, as if he would die without it?
Had the torture master turned his talents on himself?