The Wrath – Rise of the Warlords Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
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“We shall not.” He took her hand, twining their fingers. “Know this. I meant what I said. I want all of you. Long-term. I don’t know what I feel for Lore. There’s a chance she played and betrayed me, and if so, she will suffer the consequences.”

The oracle softened, leaning into him, only to stiffen, straighten and pale. “We should go.”

He’d stated his piece. Now he would give her time to think. “Where are we going?”

“Back to Harpina. Sorry, Ruby Fury, but you’ve got to do something you hate. And you aren’t the only one! I’m moving into Roc’s dungeon. But don’t—”

“Worry,” he interjected with a resolved sigh. “I know. You’ve got things covered.”

* * *

Azar paced in front of the ilium that rested upon the dresser in his bedroom. His new tracker had collected the piece on his behalf. A situation he hadn’t liked, but he couldn’t deny the results. Even better, the female had a lead on the remaining bones.

“Show yourself, Lore.” He knew she could appear wherever the smallest fragment of her skeletal system happened to be.

She did not show herself.

A mix of frustration and anger scratched at him. A familiar sensation when dealing with the goddess. She loved this game. Had enjoyed it since the beginning when he’d won her skull from a demon prince. Something Azar shouldn’t have done. But he’d been unable to cease pondering the brave beauty he’d slain so ruthlessly. She’d gotten her hooks in him, and he’d been too much of a fool to see it.

He stomped with more force. “Show yourself. Now.”

She didn’t. Because Lore.

He’d read reports of Rathbone’s dealings with Neeka, and there’d been mention of unnamed favors. Apparently, females responded to those. “Show yourself, and I will grant you a boon of your choosing, as long as it doesn’t affect my task.” He’d never lowered himself to bargain with anyone—until her.

As hoped, Lore materialized within seconds. Smirking. “Such an easy mark.”

He ground to a halt. Well. He’d just discovered the downside to such negotiations. They worked.

“Oops, did I say that aloud?” she asked, turning and bending over. “I’m bad and should be spanked.”

His hands balled into fists, as his blood boiled with things he didn’t wish to name. Once, to torment him, she’d disrobed in his presence. Now, no matter how many layers of clothing she wore, he still saw her soft perfection on full display.

With everyone else, she pretended to be what they desired most. With Azar, she seemed to delight in revealing her inner evil. A punishment for overseeing her murder, he supposed.

Or maybe she worked with Erebus, his enemy. The male loved to toy with their emotions, leaving them in abject misery. Perhaps she pretended with Azar, too, giving him what he secretly desired. How frustrating it was to know everything and absolutely nothing at the same time.

“Are you Jezebel?” he asked.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Does it matter? Whatever name you call me, I’m still me.”

Yes. Still loathsome. “Grenwich told me you assisted with the bone’s acquisition. Tell me why,” he commanded. “You know I plan to kill you again.”

She pouted a little. “So no spanking then?”

His fists tightened, his knuckles threatening to crack. “Answer the question.”

“Fine.” Straightening, she said, “I did it because I wanted to. Obviously. Now, about that boon...”

“Half answers receive half boons,” he grated.

“Oh, very well. I did it because I knew you wouldn’t change your mind about bringing me to life. But Rathbone might. You should see the way he looks at his oracle. It’s sickening, really.”

“I could change my mind.” He pushed the words through clenched teeth. He would never change his mind.

“Ha! When the time comes, you’ll do whatever I command. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

Her unwavering confidence drew a panicked response from deep within him. “Forget,” he demanded under his breath.

A tinkling laugh escaped her. “You can’t forget what you did, and you know it. Eventually you’ll have to face the truth. You won’t be able to ignore the consequences of your past.”

He fought to keep his mind focused solely on her. “Why aren’t you upset? The red king has affections for another female, yet he is your fated.” What did the goddess comprehend that Azar didn’t?

“Is he my fated?” She sauntered over, halting mere inches away. “How can I be his...when I’m your gravita?” Her tone dropped to a husky whisper. “Can’t you feel the connection between us, sweetness?”

The suggestion, and ridiculous endearment, went straight to his head, fogging his mind. What if they were fated? What if—he narrowed his eyes. “Your ability to influence the thoughts and emotions of others has strengthened.”

“I know.” She fluffed her hair. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Even still,” he continued, “you will never command me.”

Her smile returned, only much wider. “We’ll see.”

Azar would have happily parted with an array of internal organs to reach into the spirit realm and throttle her. Lore was not his gravita. Deal with her for the rest of eternity? No. He might dream of her and hunger for her in ways he’d never hungered for another, but he truly believed walking into a firstone blade—the only weapon capable of ending him—was preferable to connecting his forever with hers. She would make an already miserable existence more so.


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