The Stolen Bride (Kings of Fury #2) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Fury Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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I licked my lips and wrung my fingers, each action born from a conflicting emotion. Pleasure versus dismay. “I meant, how do you know I’m not human? What if you’re wrong for once and I die?” Who would rescue Juniper then?

“You’ve already passed through a traveling stone. There’s no other way to reach Örök.” He linked his fingers with mine and led me to the circle. “And don’t forget the doorway in my tent.”

Right. Still I reeled. Malachi had risked my life without my permission. He must pay.

The berserkers strapped our supplies to their backs and released the horses, trusting them to return to camp on their own. We approached the stones on foot, everyone halting in front of a different pairing. Tremors swept over my limbs when Viktor took a post at my side.

“Don’t be afraid, Lovie.” He whispered the words straight into my ear, sending a new tide of shivers cascading over me. A talent of his, apparently. “I will let nothing happen to you, I swear it.”

“I’m not afraid. Not really.” But the stakes had never been higher. With Juniper, I’d finally found my other half. My missing piece. I needed time with her. “But I kind of am,” I admitted. And man, I hated fear.

“I will protect your life with my own.” He ruined the beautiful confession when he added, “You still owe me answers, songs, and a reward.”

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. “From sweet as cake to sour as lemons.”

“My specialty. Soldiers,” he called, and they straightened into attention. “It’s time.”

After shedding their shirts, they unsheathed large blades from the scabbards that hung from the waist of their leathers.

“I’m not going in topless,” I warned Viktor.

A rugged smile crossed his lips, there and gone. Just enough to light a fire inside me. “It’s purely ceremonial,” he said, clasping my hand with his free one. “This might sting a bit.” With no other warning, he cut my palm. A small incision with a big well of crimson.

The pain registered, but my adrenaline was too high for me to care. “Was that necessary?”

“You cannot pass through dimensions without blood.” He raised my arm and pressed my wound against both sides of the stone, ensuring I left a thick smear of red behind. Then he performed the same act on himself, cutting and pressing. Seeing his blood mingle with mine did something to me. My knees quaked.

“I never shed blood to enter the bathroom.”

“The bathroom is within this dimension,” he replied.

Oh. Well.

He returned the dagger to its sheath and squared his shoulders. He was just so big, his body so broad, I felt crowded in the best way. The start of a wing tattoo on his shoulder offered a perfect distraction. Not to mention the flawless flesh that stretched taut over what must be rocks. Such power! Oh, the ferocity barely banked inside him. Heat spread over my cheeks. I forgot all about my throbbing hand.

“If you have changed your mind and wish to stay behind, that’s no problem,” Viktor commented, withdrawing his swords. “I had a contingent of men follow us in case you wished to return to camp. They’ll escort you.” He didn’t wait for my response, just strode into the center of the stone doorway, vanishing in a blink.

The nerve of the man. And the thoughtfulness. The juxtaposition was maddening, exactly like the man himself.

Heart thudding, I rushed to catch up with him. In an instant, a gale force of wind slammed into me. Grains of sand pelted my body, acting as little needle pricks against my skin. Squeezing my eyes shut against the burn, I extended my arms, searching for Viktor. There! I flung myself against his back, clinging to the berserker as tight as humanly possible.

Just as suddenly as the wind kicked up, it died. The storm ended and peace reigned. Breathing deep, I pried open my eyes, relaxed my hold on Viktor, and glanced about, unsure what to expect…

Huh. We stood in front of another set of traveling stones. These were nothing like the others. They looked to be made of rusted metal and crumbling concrete. The sun appeared to be crumbling as well, with bits of it streaking across a dark gray sky studded by oily black clouds. Gnarled snow-capped trees with intertwined, thorn-littered branches surrounded us. An electric current charged frigid air scented with the sharp bite of evergreen.

Mist formed in front of my face with every exhalation. Viktor turned slowly and focused squarely on me, his chin down and his eyes fierce. He panted his breaths.

A prickly sensation rode the waves of my nerve endings, instincts screaming, Leave. Now.

I swallowed. He was close to raging out. But why? “Viktor. I need you to dial it down, okay?”

But he didn’t. One after the other, glowing golden rings rimmed his pupils, until flames crackled inside his irises. His inhalations became huffs, his nostrils flaring. With him, the mist resembled smoke, making him appear to be some sort of dragon shifter. He opened and closed claw-tipped fists.


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