The Rising Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #4)

Categories Genre: Dragons, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
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This was unsurprising, for he detested wearing them, and as he did, he did not do so very often.

Thus, I moved to my husband, batted his hands away, took over and reminded him, “Mostly to see Ellie and Cass and the girls.”

“Right,” he muttered.

“And, say, because you are king of a great realm and history is being made that you’ve been invited to witness. Not to mention, these are your friends.”

“Mars and Silence didn’t come,” True pointed out.

“Nyx is close to having her baby. Silence doesn’t want to be far from her and Mars doesn’t wish to be far from Lorenz,” I told him something he knew.

“Aramus and Ha-Lah aren’t here,” he went on.

“Because they’re visiting a Mer colony down in the Fotía and they couldn’t get here in time.”

He sighed.

I finished with his neckcloth.

“I bet Cass isn’t wearing a neckcloth,” he muttered.

This complaint drew my attention.

And my concern.

For it wasn’t like my True to be grumpy.

So I pressed my hands to his chest in order to get his attention, this in order to get to the meat of the matter.

“What truly troubles you, caro?”

He held my gaze before he said, “You were visiting with Ellie when they came.”

“Who came?”

“Not who. What.”

I lifted my brows to share that this did not answer my question.

He wrapped his fingers around one of my hands, took it from his chest, and the other one naturally fell away when he guided me into the sitting room outside our bedchamber in the spacious, well-appointed cell we’d been given by the Go’Doan.

Definitely a different reception we’d had over the first time I was there.

Then again, much had changed for the Go’Doan.

And what was happing that day, and the lovely memorial plaque they’d mounted to G’Ry, were only two of a great many.

True took me to a bureau and pulled out a drawer.

Only then did he let me go as he reached in and took out two books.

He set them on the top of the bureau.

They were both handsomely leather bound.

One was maroon, the leather elegantly embossed, the very long title set in gold.

It said, THE BATTLE OF THE BEASTS.

And it had a subtitle, THE RISE OF THE POWER OF THE FEMALE.

Which had a subtitle of, AND THE RETURN OF THE FIRE KING, THE SEA KING, THE SKY KING & THE GREEN KING.

The other book had a rich, green leather, embossed with leaves, acorns and trees.

And the title was set in pewter.

It said, TRUE, THE GREEN KING, & FARAH, THE GREEN QUEEN.

“Oh my,” I whispered.

“These are copies. They’re sending the first to all the kingdoms. And they’re keeping the originals of both in their Narration Hall.”

“Of course,” I said, for this was what the Go’Doan did.

And this was good, for if they hadn’t done just so over the years, recording history, and protecting books that did the same, as well as books as a whole, we would not have learned so much about the Beasts.

“The other is unfinished, but presented as such as a gift to us,” he went on.

“I see,” I said in a way I shared I still did not understand why he was upset.

“We have our own fucking tome, darling,” he stated, reached to it, flipped it open and then shuffled pages aside until it was lying flat, pages to either side half and half.

One side held carefully calligraphied words, the first letter in each paragraph much larger than the rest, surrounded by a square, in which, around the letter, lovely vines had been painted.

“That’s rather beautiful,” I murmured.

“We’ve got a tome, Farah,” he mostly repeated.

I looked to him. “This troubles you because…?”

“It troubles me because it isn’t just about you and me,” he declared.

I stared up at him.

“Men died. Pixies died. Fairies died. Gnomes died. Alfie lost his legs. My mother lost her life. If a book has green leather, it should be about Wodell, not about—”

He stopped speaking when I put my fingers to his lips.

And then I spoke.

“There are so many words written in so many books in their library that share about vile things. And tragic things. And unpleasant things. And unjust things. Give them this, True. Give Triton this. Give us a book about nothing but good…nothing but good…and true.” I slid my fingers across his cheek, into his soft, thick hair, to wrap them around the back of his head. “And help me fill the rest of that book with the same so our children can read it. And their children. And onward forever.”

He looked down at the book.

“Though I don’t have to ask you to do that,” I said, and he looked back to me. “You’d do it anyway.”

That was when he kissed me.

It became heated, as such between us was wont to do, and thus it took a knock on the door to interrupt it.

“Yes!” True called.


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