The Phantom – Rise of the Warlords Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
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No! No, no, no. The desire wasn’t for him but sex. There was a difference.

Desperate to eradicate the tension in the air and prove herself right, she rushed out, “Why don’t we bargain?” She would do almost anything to avoid having his fingers near her mouth.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and his lids turned heavy, sinking to half-mast. A good look for him. “There’s no need. Without an Oath Stone, I cannot trust you to keep your end of an agreement.”

The tension thickened. Irritated, she snapped, “That sounds like a you prob—”

He shoved a strawberry onto her tongue, silencing her. A heated protest dissolved as the sweet juice awoke her taste buds.

After she swallowed, she tried again. “Look. I decided not to—” The tanginess of pineapple hit her awareness, and she moaned. His scent in her nose deepened the richness of the flavors.

“See. No need.”

Okay. At this rate, they’d get nowhere. Blythe did the only thing she could. She kicked the tray from his lap before he could feed her anything else. Instant outburster’s remorse! Bye-bye pineapple. Bye-bye strawberry.

Roux looked at the food splattered over the floor, then her, then the food, then her. He blanked his expression. “Very well. You may go hungry. Act like a she-beast, and you’ll be treated like one.”

When he made to rise, she slammed her foot atop his shoulder to hold him down. “Unchain me, and I’ll act like a mildly mature human adult. I’ll stay put. I promise. Consider this a test run for my level of honesty. While we eat, each feeding ourselves, we can exchange questions.” Win-win for her. There were mysteries she longed to decipher. Also, freedom!

He arched a brow. “You think there’s something about you I wish to know?”

“Yes.” A confident statement. “I’m the daughter of your worst enemy, and I’ve had more dealings with Erebus than anyone you’ve ever met. You must be curious to learn his greatest weaknesses. Or perhaps you’d like to learn the plans I’m privy to.”

Roux snorted. “And you’ll tell me all without lying, yes? Me, the male you despise.”

“Well, yeah. Why not? Daddy Dearest arranged for my passage here, only to betray me. I’m looking forward to returning the favor. Also—see! You have questions. In a show of good faith, I’ll answer this one for free. Erebus is the reason I’m wearing a wraith’s jewel with my see-through jammies.”

When she angled her metal-bound wrists to trail a blunt-tipped claw down the center of the ruby, he followed the action with his gaze and gulped. Got him! “What do you say?”

Roux gave a clipped nod. “I agree to your terms. We may ask up to three questions each about any topic. The other person cannot refuse to answer. If you lie, even once, I’ll know, and I’ll keep you chained even after my task is completed.”

“Please,” she retorted. “You’ll be dead long before then.”

His eyelids slitted. But he rose, unhooked the chain from the bed—without freeing her hands—and strode off to sit at the desk, where the bulk of food trays rested. With his back to her, he waved her over.

Testing her at the starting line? Blythe stood and stomped over, plopping in the chair across from him and digging in. He watched her. Intently. She tried not to notice or care that flutters had re-erupted in her stomach.

“So. Why did your father torture you?” Better to start with a bang, letting him know she wouldn’t be pulling her punches.

He blinked. “You wish to know about my childhood, when you have only three questions? An answer that has no bearing on our situation?” Confusion flittered over his expression. “Very well. I’ll tell you. My twin, Rowan, and I were not conceived in the typical way. Mars—”

“Whoa! There are two of you?” The second question exploded from her before she had a chance to filter it with common sense.

He smirked, the striations in his eyes spinning at warp speed. “There are, yes. And now you have a final question remaining.”

Hey! “That last one doesn’t count.” Might as well give a protest a shot. “It could have been a statement.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No,” she grumbled, honest. “It wasn’t.”

His next smirk was even more irritating than the original. “As I was saying, Mars—our father—was bored and wondered how he might have turned out if he’d lived different lives as a child. So he cloned himself, creating the two of us. Rowan, he kept in luxury and pampered. Me, he kept in the dungeon and tormented.”

Oh, wow. A thousand other questions whirled inside her head. Roux the Astra. A clone. A freaking clone of the Roman god Mars. An exact copy. All because the (clearly) egomaniacal warrior had wished to know the difference a childhood filled with torment wreaked on a boy?

The unbridled pride required to do such a thing. The total lack of compassion. Roux’s childhood was far worse than she’d suspected, wasn’t it?


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