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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How could I ditch him when he needed me?

“I can’t do this.” I slowed, stopped, and released the mayor. “I can’t leave Jasher behind.”

Leona jogged in place and waved me on. “Come on! You’ll die if you go back.” Fear drenched her words. “He’s strong enough to take care of himself.”

“One monstra against ten?” Probably more by now. I had no doubt others had rushed in. “I can’t leave Jasher behind,” I repeated with a firmer tone. Decision made. I threw my arms around Leona, giving the other woman a hug. “You go and find your sister. Maybe one day we’ll see each other again, and you can introduce me to her.”

“Moriah—”

“Goodbye, mayor.” I turned on my heel and stalked toward the cell. Confidence solidified with every step. Yes, this was right. As I lifted my head, tingles erupted over my body. I didn’t have to glance down to know the liquid armor poured over me. My father’s armor? Had he— or his spirt?—joined with me? Because I could feel love and peace, true power, radiated from each piece.

A hilt materialized in each of my hands, and I held them tight. Blades stretched into swords.

My ears twitched. The roars ended, giving way to scrabbling sounds, as if the monstra now chased me. Oh, yes. The beasts turned a corner, gunning for me. Realization and horror beat at my composure. They’d gotten past Jasher. Had hurt him, possibly killed him.

Righteous fury consumed me, bringing a rumbling growl to my throat. I surrendered to instinct and quite possibly Ahav himself, allowing a force greater than myself to infuse my cells. Flames rushed over me from head to toe. I didn’t need to see it to know the hat burned to ash, leaving behind a golden halo. Those flames even spread over my swords. If my life had a been a movie, an action soundtrack would’ve played in the background.

Words burst from me. “I am Princess Moriah Shaker Ori’Emet, only daughter of Queen Sandrine and King Ahav, and you will pay!” Like Dorothy, I’d had the ability all along. I’d just had to tap into it.

The Guardian wasn’t great and terrible. I was.

The moment the beasts reached striking distance, I acted. Moving with the grace of a dancer, I wielded the weapons. Off with a monstra’s head. As it died, I spun and decapitated the next. Thick green blood sprayed over the corridor walls.

The remaining monstra attempted to glom upon me, but I ducked, dived, rolled and struck without pause. They died like their brethren, one after another. Not a single beast managed do more than scratch me. Though winded, I stomped over the bodies and strode from the destruction, ready for anything thrown my way.

Light shone at the end of the tunnel. I picked up speed and prepared for the next battle. But when I exited, entering the cell, no one waited to challenge me. I scanned the devastation. Monstra bodies and body parts filled the area. Thick pools of green blood collected here and there.

Where was Jasher? Worry cooled the heat in my veins. In seconds, the halo and armor faded. The hat did not return. My weapons vanished too, and there was no willing them back. A concern I’d need to deal with as soon as I found my Tinman. The only creature still intact and breathing attempted to rise, but not to harm me. A gaping wound in his chest prevented him from succeeding, and he sagged to the floor.

“Jasher?” I croaked.

Wings and scales faded, bones retracted, and the man I loved reformed naked. His hair was a mess, his eyes were glazed, and his skin tattooed with a tree and its various face-flowers.

“Jasher!” I cried, rushing over to crouch at his side. He was ashen. The gaping wound in his chest hadn’t healed with his transformation. His sternum had been cracked down the middle and pulled apart, exposing his organs. His beautiful heart barely beat. Was even slowing…

Who could survive this?

No! No, no, no. I wouldn’t let him die. I refused. I petted his cheek, demanding, “You will heal, Jasher. Understand?”

A slow, pained smile formed. “You came back.” He coughed, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. frowning. “You shouldn’t be here.” Again he attempted to rise. But again, he lacked the strength to do so.

“Y-you’re going to be okay.” I dug out the serpens-rosa and popped a grain onto his tongue. Don’t be too late, don’t be too late, don’t be too late. The mantra played inside my head on repeat. But seconds bled into minutes and nothing happened.

Maybe he required a stronger dose?

I didn’t hesitate. Though I’d dreamed of smuggling a grain back to my father, I refused to let Jasher die while I possessed the power to save him. I fed him the last grain, and my mantra changed. Please work, please work, please work.


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