The Great and Terrible (Out of Ozland #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Out of Ozland Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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“What—how,” I stuttered.

“My brothers and I come here a lot.” As water heated over the fire, he peeled and sliced the vegetables. It wasn’t long before a tantalizing aroma filled the air.

“And he cooks too,” I muttered. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“There is, yes.” His eyes landed on my lips, and his lids sank low, hooding.

I fanned my burning cheeks. There was no denying it any longer. This man stirred something new, exciting, and unexpected inside me. We might be doomed relationship-wise, considering we came from two different worlds, but we had time before my return home. Perhaps that was enough.

“If you guys will stop staring at each other and finish cooking, I’d appreciate it,” Leona announced.

Jasher pursed his lips and refocused on his task. I did my best to not shake the other woman.

“So. What do you guys know about those horned, winged horses?” I asked.

“The pegacorns?” His brows winged up. “What about them?”

“Yeah,” Leona interjected, her nose crinkling. “What about them? And what about those cookies?”

“Have either of you ever ridden a pegacorn?” I asked.

“How could we? They belonged only to royalty.” Jasher handed a second sweet to the mayor, who squealed and Cookie Monstered the treat. “When the king and queen died, the monstra wiped out their stables.”

Leona nodded emphatically, crumbs scattered over her chin.

Such a casual mention of my parents, without connecting me to their lineage. “The pegacorn are most certainly not extinct. I’ve seen two off and on.”

He went still. Canted his head. “When? Where?”

“After the cannibals. Here and there.”

“Perhaps you saw regular horses and imagined the horns and wings,” Leona suggested. “You’re an otherworlder, and you guys tend to spew ridiculous ideas.”

I worked my jaw. “Have you met many otherworlders?”

“A heaping handful, and you’re all the same.” She reclined against a tree, getting comfortable. “Always so desperate to return home. Like, what’s so special about your land that you’re willing to ruin someone else’s life just to get back?”

I frowned. “What do you mean, ruin another’s life?”

“The storm brings one and takes one. An equal exchange.” The mayor shrugged. “Think sacrifice and titleholder. A life for a life.”

Whoa. Hold up. Someone from Hakeldama died to allow my entry?

Recalling the man smashed beneath the chapel, I went cold and jerked my gaze to Jasher. “Is this true?”

“Some say yes, some say no.”

But what did he say?

Now might be the perfect time to confess. All I had to do was say, “The chapel crushed someone, and he wore boots like yours.” But I didn’t. Right time, wrong place. Leona did not need to serve as a third wheel. Besides, the dead guy wasn’t Jasher’s brother.

Except, what if he was?

My stomach curdled, and I almost declined a bowl of Jasher’s incredible smelling soup. Almost. In the end, I gobbled up every rich, flavorful drop. But having a full belly while cocooned in comfort welcomed fatigue. And not just for me.

Jasher handed me a blanket, then passed the other to Leona.

The mayor yawned and stretched out before the fire. “Want to cuddle?” She wiggled her brows. “I’ll keep you nice and toasty and you can help me be a better person. Apparently, attempting to rescue my sister Claudia from captivity is a crime worthy of getting kicked out of my village.”

“He’s sharing with me,” I announced without thought. Then her words registered, and guilt pierced me. “Maybe we can help you find her. Where⁠—”

“How dare you! As if I have any interest in discussing my greatest source of torment.” Leona turned to her side, ending the conversation.

Jasher cast me a look and arched a brow, all we’re sharing?

Well, why not? I jutted my chin, basically shouting yes, dang it. “Can’t have you freezing and getting sick.” I spread the blanket on the ground, adjusted my dagger, and cuddled up beside Nugget, awaiting Jasher’s decision. Would he? Wouldn’t he?

A minute passed. Then another. And another. Guess he’d⁠—

He rose, closed the distance, and stretched out behind me. I swallowed a moan as he conformed his body to mine and wrapped a strong arm around my waist, sealing me against him, searing me with his furnace-like heat. His breath fanned my nape. His scent drugged me hard and fast, and his strength awed me. Mmm. The luxury! The sense of safety. The rightness. And oh, the way his (now) steady heartbeat lulled me into total relaxation. A melody more beautiful than the one produced by sirenes.

My breath hitched as Jasher dragged his hand up and wrapped his fingers around the compass nestled between my breasts. Though I agonized over what he might do next—what I wanted him to do—he remained still.

“Goodnight, princess,” he rasped.

“Goodnight, Tinman,” I rasped back, fatigue finally getting the best of me. My eyelids slid closed. As I floated away on an ocean of nothingness, a thought drifted through my mind. What if he comes home with me?


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