Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Picking up a sword, his woman smiled as Carrigan lumbered to her knees. Swing. Too weak to defend, the Phoenix lost her head. Literally.
Panting, hands fisted, Blythe stood fast as the body of her foe toppled a final time. Whether the Phoenix could heal from such a wound while being drained by a wraith or not was irrelevant. Blythe had done it; she had delivered a death blow, winning the tournament!
But how had the ruby fallen from her perfect skin? The only way would be for Blythe to have forgiven him. Acquitting him of all charges. Which meant...she had.
His eyes widened. Wonder bloomed through him.
“All hail the new queen of Ation,” he shouted.
A collective denial rang out.
The councilmembers spoke over each other. “This isn’t possible.”
“Wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“The crown belongs to us!”
“No one will be leaving this realm!”
Blythe’s gaze flipped up, finding Roux on the dais. The connection and chemistry between them arced, a lightning bolt to his systems.
He saluted her, and she winked.
Oh, how he longed to stalk over and yank his harpy into his arms. Maybe on Laban’s behalf, maybe not. Either way, Roux could not let her go. He was keeping her, and that was that. What else mattered?
As if she’d read his thoughts, she nodded. Soon, she mouthed.
Yes. Soon. They would have their talk and plan their future. He could decide how to handle the blessing task. But harm her? Never again. He’d do everything in his power to make amends with Isla. Never could he take her father’s place. Never would he try. But no matter her feelings, he intended to oversee her protection for the rest of his days.
Realizing she’d lost her leverage, Penelope screeched—the last sound she made. In a blink, Blythe was standing before her, little more than mist, and splitting open her torso. The wraith vanished as her guts spilled out.
“Told you,” Isla told Roux as Blythe materialized at her side. “She always wins.”
He smiled. “That she does.”
Aggression rose from the royal council. He spun, facing them. “A single battle remains, and it’s ours.”
Sensing their end, the females attacked him in unison. As blows were exchanged, he and Blythe pressed together, forming a wall in front of the little girl. Block. Strike. Block, block. Slash.
But the child didn’t stay put. Moving out from behind them, Isla stretched out her arms. As her brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled, the air at the opposite end of the dais rippled. The underground began to shake, dirt billowing, rocks falling. Then, a colorful door appeared, with a lock above the handle.
The girl grinned up at her mother. “See.”
For a moment, the battle paused. An Amazon was the first to recover. She hurried over and twisted the knob. That knob held.
“Gotta use the key, dummy,” Isla taunted, revealing the length of ornately carved silver in her palm.
Roux flashed over and tore the Amazon away from the door, allowing Blythe to transport her daughter there. Isla inserted the key, twisted, and removed the key. A click sounded, the knob turning on its own. Hinges creaked as the block opened, again on its own, welcoming the scent of honeysuckle and roses and revealing a bedroom Roux had seen in the Harpinian palace. A room he knew to be Blythe’s. The king-size bed was unmade, the dresser scattered with weapons. Heaps of ash filled the hearth. A portrait of Roux graced the center of the mantel, a cluster of darts embedded into both of his eyes.
A giant rock fell, barely missing the dais. Mother and daughter stumbled to the side. The Amazon wrenched free and soared through the doorway without bouncing back. Roux almost couldn’t process the feat.
The other councilmembers forgot all about their opponents and attempted to follow the Amazon through the opening. Before they could make it, he flashed inside the entrance, dragged the Amazon from the room, then herded the others backward.
“Go,” he shouted to Blythe, fighting off the enemy as the shaking worsened. “Get Isla to safety. I’ll follow you as soon as I keep the promise I made to these women.”
She looked ready to protest until a bigger rock smacked into the stands. She scooped the girl into her arms and, as he turned to the side, she zoomed past him, shooting through the opening.
Relief bathed him. His girls were safe.
The councilmembers were undeterred. They sprang forward, attempting to claw their way past him. Without Blythe and Isla to worry about, he altered the air, ensuring his foes inhaled the same poison he’d fed the combatants.
One by one, his tormentors screamed and collapsed, writhing on the floor. Wounds appeared. Blood poured.
A delightful sight indeed. “For days you did your best to harm my female. Now you will learn the error of your ways.” He unleashed his worst power, forcing their spirits to rise from their bodies. Drawing those spirits closer. Absorbing each one in his skin. What were a few more prisoners?