The Wrong Bride (Kings of Fury #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Fury Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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He didn’t budge. Rather, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down.

Okay then. We’d do this in plain sight. I chanced a glance over his broad shoulders. No one loomed in the open doorframe. Excellent. I pasted on my brightest smile, then faked left and darted right, tearing past him. I left Tall, Dark and Commanding in my dust.

My heart thundered in my ears as I sprinted across the hall toward a winding staircase. Down I went, noticing blue this and blue that. But who cared? Where was the exit? Two maids in uniform dusted at the bottom. They offered me a half-hearted bend of the knee. Weird.

“How do I get out of here?” I rushed out.

Silent gaping met my question. They peered up and performed true curtseys.

I tracked their gazes. Gah! Tall, Dark and Commanding had followed me. He towered at the top of the staircase. “There’s got to be a front door. Back door?”

Features schooled in a blank mask, he descended at a leisurely pace. I wasn’t sure how, but his ease proved more terrifying than anyone else’s rage.

“Where?” I demanded of the women.

When he nodded permission, the shorter of the two pointed to the left with a shaky finger.

I didn’t stick around to thank her. Or him. Just dashed through an immense sitting area beyond a gaggle of other maids. There! The door. But gah! Isobel’s bodyguards, Buzz and Ponytail, flanked it.

Good guys or bad guys? I’d soon find out. “Help me,” I commanded. “The man in the suit threatened to kill me.”

The pair cast confused looks in said man’s direction, all what should we do, boss? Yeah, they worked for TDC, not Isobel. Though my stomach twisted, I didn’t change course. To gain my freedom, I must overcome any obstacle. Even behemoths.

They didn’t attempt to stop me as I gripped the knob. The gold handle turned easily. Hinges glided without impediment as the thick wooden slab with a stained glass cut out opened. Still, the bodyguards did nothing as I fled.

Afternoon sunlight and a warmish breeze scented with heather enveloped me. Where to go, where to go? I hastened forward, scanning... To the left and right, trees. Up ahead, a circle drive with an elaborate marble water fountain as its centerpiece. A sleek black sedan waited nearby, the engine already purring. Another vehicle parked behind it.

A uniformed driver hopped out of the first and rushed to whisk open the back door. He nodded at me. “Good morning, Mrs. Bruce.”

Mrs. Bruce? At least he didn’t think I was Isobel Campbell.

I hurried over, a plan forming. Jump behind the wheel, peel out, and drive until I found someone willing to aid me. Without GPS to show the way, odds were good I’d get lost.

Almost there…

Strong arms caught me from behind, lifted me off my feet, spun me around, and slung me over a broad shoulder.

“Your two minutes are up,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Nooo! I fought with everything I had. My captor motored on without a care, his gait smooth and unhurried.

“Uisge ciùin, Mr. Bruce,” the driver called happily, as if he witnessed scenes like this five times a day.

Uisge ciùin? Aka calm waters, the motto I’d read on the plaid?

Wait. I wheezed my next breath. The driver had referred to TDC as Mr. Bruce and me as Mrs. Bruce. Were we actually married, as my captor claimed?

“Uisge ciùin, Angus.” Mr. Bruce adjusted his hold on me, then unceremoniously tossed me inside the vehicle and climbed in at my side.

The locks engaged with an ominous thunk. I tried to scramble out, anyway, but the handles held.

After settling behind the wheel, the driver—Angus—eased us from the driveway. I twisted to look out the back window, on the hunt for anyone who might offer aid. Or maybe I’d even spot Isobel herself, observing all she’d wrought. My eyes widened. We departed from a magnificent three-story castle with an awe-inspiring, manicured yard. A massive stone wall barricaded the property from the rest of the world, with armed guards patrolling the top.

Speaking of guards, Buzz and Ponytail sealed themselves inside the second car. Intending to trail us?

Well and truly trapped. My blood flashed cold, the scanty dress offering little warmth. I faced TDC and snarled, “I demand to know where you’re taking me.” Some kind of reception, he’d said?

Angus glanced at me via the rearview mirror but remained silent.

“As I explained last night,” Mr. Bruce stated flatly, “you are to be presented to my clan—” he worked his jaw— “our clan and solidify your new position as—” Another jaw jostle. “My wife.”

“I am not your wife,” I retorted, pressing against the door to put as much distance between us as possible. “Proof: you threatened to kill me.”

“Nay, I reminded you of the consequences of your actions.”

And the difference? “I don’t understand any of this. I’m Eliz⁠—”


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