Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
And instead, he dealt his mortal blow.
“We will battle this fucking Beast. I do not know of destiny, of the supposed power of these unions of man and wife, except it seems naught but nonsense. But when it is done, we will sever ties, you and me. And then I will find a queen that suits me. A queen that suits Mar-el. And she will give me an heir. Then I will change the laws of our land so my son will know nothing but happiness.”
On that, he spun again and stalked to the door.
“King Aramus,” I called.
He twisted at the waist and barked, “What?”
“I am truly very sorry for the loss of a man you cared for so deeply.”
“This I believe,” he bit.
“And I am further sorry for the loss of you, for I was falling in love with you, my king, and your brother died an honorable death, protecting his king and queen. I will carry him in my heart as well, for as long as I am breathing, grateful for the sacrifice he made for you and for me. But in the fury of your grief, you killed something not as precious, but it was coming to be precious to me. And I will mourn its loss, not as you clearly mourn, but I shall do it all the same.”
As I spoke, he turned fully to me, his neck inclining, the rage seeping out of his expression.
It was then I turned away from him and moved toward the bath and my dressing room.
“Ha-Lah,” he called.
I kept walking.
“Ha-Lah,” he repeated.
I did not miss a step.
“My queen, come back to me,” he issued his command, albeit gently.
At that, I stopped, turned only my head to him and looked him in the eye.
Mine were brimming.
At the sight, he flinched.
“Never,” I whispered.
And with that vow, I walked away from my king.
The Priest
Cell of a Go’En, Go’Doan Temple, Fire City
FIRENZE
Sitting cross-legged upon a pentagram surrounded by sacred symbols drawn on the floorboards in chalk, black candles lit all around him, the priest closed his eyes, felt the whoosh in his stomach, and in astral form, his spirit left his body and he soared the astral plane.
Gleeful.
Joyous.
Victorious.
The Beast was almost there.
And he was angered that a ritual had taken place without his master in attendance.
As it should be.
All of it was just as it should be.
Thus, the priest was smiling when he took astral form in the chambers of his lover, Rupert.
His smile died instantly.
For what he saw was Rupert abed.
Inside a woman.
He was grunting and sweating, his cock thrusting in her cunt, his tongue in her mouth.
And when they broke the connection of their lips, his Rupert, his lover, his chosen one, his favorite, smiled with lust and bliss and love at the female.
In his body in Firenze, the priest felt fire blaze in his stomach, as his eyes in his astral form narrowed.
And as his lover bent his head back to the woman to take her mouth, the creatures the priest brought forth through magic slithered across the floor.
At his command they waited.
He’d give his lover one last thing.
And after the priest endured the revulsion of watching her cry out her ecstasy, he endured the heartbreak of watching Rupert throw back his head and shout his climax, thrusting deeply inside her through it as he would do the same when he took his priest.
That was when the asps struck.
His thigh.
Her ankle.
There were gasps.
Then Rupert pulled free and rolled, his eyes growing large as he stared at the snake slithering over his lover.
He brushed it off as she bolted up and screamed.
Many bites of the asps brought near-instant death.
One bite, it took a bit longer.
And Rupert was far from stupid.
He did not take a blade to himself or his female to slice it across the punctures and try to draw out the poison.
It was far too late for that.
As she started to pitch in agony when the venom reached her veins, Rupert’s eyes searched his chamber.
And he found his priest.
“Why?” he asked.
It was then, the priest grew perplexed.
“Why?” he queried in return.
Rupert had no answer for he was curling into himself as the pain struck his system.
She was already writhing.
“Why?” Rupert cried, his face beginning to contort.
“You are mine,” the priest answered. “Or were.”
“Yes,” he pushed out feebly. “I was.”
The priest blinked.
But he had seen…
The female rolled off the bed.
Dead.
Well, that didn’t take long.
“We would…” The priest looked back to his lover as he spoke again, Rupert’s eyes to the vision of him, no attention to the woman, “rule the world.”
“I will now, without you,” the priest told him.
Rupert shook his head, but seized, his much larger frame taking longer for the venom to vanquish it.
“You…you…” Rupert forced out, awkwardly indicating a snake slithering over the bedsheets, “are weak. You do not…do not…understand loyalty.”