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)
“I’m not surprised by that. You aren’t nearly as smart as I am. Like any true friend, I’m going to help that pale-haired harpy, as you call her, get to the end and kill me. I’ll revive, protect her from you, then force you to escort both of us home.” Unshakable confidence laced her every word. “What do you think of my plan?”
“I like it.” Few flaws. Phoenixes almost always came back from the dead, and when they did, they were always stronger. “I would have liked it better if you’d kept me in the dark and executed a successful ambush.”
She smiled at him, a sensual curve of her mouth that would have hardened him in an instant if he’d been another male. As usual, a lone female affected his body, and it wasn’t this one. “Do you think I’m destined to fail because you’re an Astra? Some kind of superman, right? Well guess what, Mr. Kent? Every superhero has a weakness, and you are no different.”
“Do tell.”
“Your ego will be your defeat. What your beefed-up brain cannot comprehend is that I will win any battle against you by superior intellect alone. I had the foresight to consult an oracle before purposely coming to this realm, you see. I wanted to make sure I had a way out. And I do. I happen to know something you don’t.”
“Is your ego a weakness?” he asked conversationally.
She acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “I was told I would be one of two finalists left in a tournament to the death,” she said, smirking at him. “That I and my friend would escape, and a phantom would die or not, depending on my decisions.”
* * *
Blythe struggled to keep her attention on Lucca, the famed harpy she’d cornered not too long ago. At first, they’d exchanged half-hearted insults. Then they’d bargained, becoming allies who swapped information tonight and returned to being foes tomorrow. Finally, she had a chance to get her burning questions answered. Though, granted, she and the other combatant had only issued softball queries so far, feeling each other out.
But dang it, Roux had been involved in a deep conversation with the Phoenix for the past ten minutes. What were the two chatting about?
Focus. Only an idiot wasted a golden opportunity like this. “Tell me about the Ation crown,” she said. “I’ve felt its come hither vibe and heard it’s cursed. Is it?”
“Yes and no,” Lucca replied, the braids in her hair slapping together as she wobbled her head back and forth. “To see it is to want it. But once someone is crowned, they cannot shed it until their death. So, they end up dying quickly because others want it. And not just because of the crown’s intense draw. Legend claims only the queen will be freed from this realm. Your Astra’s offer fed the tale, growing it into a beast. Why else would so many survivalists be willing to die for the chance to win a night with a surly warrior and his chopping block?”
“He isn’t mine,” she muttered, casting her gaze his way. He was fully engaged with the Phoenix. He kept his body angled toward hers and his eyes on her face. Hers. Not Blythe’s. And he even clasped the other woman’s wrist, locking her in place, as if he couldn’t bear to part with her.
Hey! He was touching her. Willingly.
Was he enjoying it?
Blythe curled her hands into fists. Prickles ran the length of her spine, and she couldn’t understand why. Or what they stemmed from. Because it wasn’t jealousy. Nope. Not even the tiniest bit.
“Whatever floats your boat,” Lucca said, palms up and out in a gesture of innocence. “No judgment over your appallingly terrible taste, I swear. Anyway. My turn for info. Tell me everything you’ve gleaned about the Astra’s blessing task.”
To say anything might well be a betrayal to Roux. But to say nothing was to end a fruitful Q and A.
Shouldn’t she want to betray the Warden? Yes. She should. So she would. “He’s gotta cut out the queen’s heart.”
“Yeah. With a trinite blade. That’s public knowledge around here. What else you got?”
Hold up. He had to use trinite? Blythe pressed the tip of her tongue against an incisor. Erebus had conveniently left that part out.
“What happens when he fails?” Lucca added.
Ugh. Forget the guilt. “If he fails, he and his buddies get cursed,” Blythe forced herself to admit. But she didn’t elaborate. “Your turn. What can you tell me about Penelope, queen of the wraiths? You might call her Miss Murder. After she tagged me with her jewel, she stole my favorite dagger, and I want it back.”
“Well, I know she guards a treasure room underneath her palace, and the only entrance is in her bedchamber. At least I think she does. No one had ever returned to verify the rumor.”