Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
But the truth was, even knowing that, if he had a way to take it away from her, he would.
“Are those the new housing plans?” she asked, peering at the papers on the desk.
“They are.”
“You think that will be enough?”
“For now, yes.” He moved his thumb in a slow circle over her stomach. “But since Kyn did very little with much of his portion of Vathi, there is more than enough land to build new housing without encroaching upon the areas used for crops.”
She nodded, her gaze taking on a distant quality.
He had a feeling he knew where her mind had gone. “Attes will return.”
“I know.” She gave him a small smile. “I just miss him.”
A low growl rumbled out of him instinctually. It had nothing to do with her or her friendship with the often-irritating-as-fuck Primal.
Sera’s eyes rolled. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re beautiful,” he replied, brushing his lips over her brow.
“Flattery will get you every—”
His groan interrupted her as she shifted in his lap midsentence, inadvertently rubbing her ass against the hard ridge of his arousal.
A pretty flush crept over her face. Gods, he wanted to capture that blush with paint and commit it to canvas. He wanted to know which colors he’d have to mix to find that lovely shade. The urge reminded him of something as he said, “You were saying?”
“I can’t remember what I was saying,” she said.
“You are so easily distracted.”
“In my defense, the hard cock pressing into my ass is really distracting.”
Another rough sound came from him.
A sly grin started to tip up her lips, and the scent of her arousal flooded him.
“Stop,” he said, “thinking about my dick.”
“Perhaps you should stop thinking about it and my ass,” she retorted.
He shot her a playful glare. “What you ask is impossible.”
Her laugh was soft, and then her lashes swept down, fanning her cheeks. “You know,” she began, pressing the swell of her breasts against his chest. “There are…other things I can do.” She wiggled in his lap like the little vixen she was. “I could give you examples.”
“I’m fully aware of those examples, liessa.” His hand dropped to her braid. “You could use your hand. You could even use these.” The backs of his fingers brushed the swell of her breasts, and the scent of her arousal increased, spicy and heavy. His voice dropped when his lips coasted over hers. “Your mouth.”
Sera’s breath caught.
He dragged his fingers farther down her braid. “But I think there is something else we can do instead.”
“Hmm?” she murmured.
He could tell her thoughts were still lingering on using her mouth to please him. “Well, more like somewhere we can go.”
Sera immediately sat straighter. She would’ve toppled right out of his lap if he hadn’t tightened his arm around her. She didn’t even notice as her eyes widened with excitement. “Is it finally what I think it is?”
He grinned. “Come.” Taking her hand once more, he helped her stand.
Sera was a ball of anticipation where she walked beside him, their progress slow as they made their way to the chamber in the east wing of the third floor. It had slipped both of their minds over the last several months with all that had come after entombing Kolis. He’d meant to show her before this. Something always came up, though.
But not today.
Nothing would stop Nyktos from showing his wife his paintings.
And perhaps, if his Queen was not too tired afterward, he would have her sit for him, and he would know exactly which paints it took to capture the pink in her cheeks and the green and silver in her eyes.
After all, getting her to blush was easy.
Nyktos knew just how.
The Star
The one we watched was neither alive nor dead. Neither god nor mortal, yet risen from Primal blood.
He was something else.
An abomination.
And yet, it was a miracle of creation that even the most jaded had to admire.
There were no others like him, but the realms had whispered that another would come—neither dead nor alive, god nor mortal. An abomination. A miracle. A cruel twist of fate.
The first daughter, with blood full of fire, fated for the once-promised King.
The first Chosen who would fail. Who would be forgotten, just like the ancestor she would so closely resemble. Her failure would signal the eventual arrival of the second daughter, the one born with blood full of ash and ice, the other half of the future King.
So, we did what we always did. We watched.
And he walked for days, weeks, and years, his face no longer painted in gold.
He always came back to the same place—where it all began.
The Cliffs of Sorrow.
He never stayed long while sitting on the edge, arms wrapped tightly around the brown leather satchel he always carried with him. The one he didn’t open.
He walked as kingdoms fell and new ones rose in their places. He traveled as all the old Primals faded into history, as the one who had created him was forgotten. He continued as new gods rose and their offspring inhabited the mortal realm. He walked the lands east of the Skotos then, staying hidden as the son of Primals helped build the new world. He didn’t return to the east after wolves were given dual lives by the true Primal of Life to guide the offspring of mates of the heart. Like with the draken, he was clever enough to suspect that they would sense something off about him. He walked as the pestilence of the most craven spread across the mortal realm. He traveled as the War of Two Kings ignited, forcing the great kingdom to the east to near ruin. He continued as Nyktos honored the oath he’d made to the true Primal of Life, and, one by one, the gods went to sleep to prevent vengeance against those who had harmed her child.