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)
Rather than partake of the meal, he crossed his arms over his chest. “My turn. Death is involved in becoming a phantom, even for the daughters of Erebus. Tell me about yours.”
She frowned. Why would he wish to know such a thing? Unless he thought he would discover her greatest weaknesses? Yeah, that had to be it.
Well, too bad, so sad. The story revealed nothing. “I was nine years old. A year away from leaving home to attend harpy camp, where I was expected to learn to control my temper in order to better kill my enemies. My mother and aunt summoned me, explained the circumstances of my birth, asked if I wanted to be stronger, then stabbed me in the heart. First with fireiron, then demonglass, and finally cursedwood.” The three substances that made up trinite. “When I revived, boom, I was a phantom. And yes, I was stronger.”
He thought for a moment. “The actual conception of a phantom isn’t Erebus’s preferred method of creation.”
“Nope.” Usually, the Dark One killed an immortal of another species first, injected them with his death venom and seared his brand into their spirit—among other things—binding their will to his. “Don’t worry. I’ll turn my sights to Erebus soon and end the phantom-making problem at the source. Like I said, I owe him as much as I owe you.” Mood instantly soured, she sank her teeth into a bacon sandwich and ripped. The flavors burst on her tongue. Man, the ladies of Ation had no modern equipment that she’d seen, but they’d found a way to excel in every way possible, anyway.
Roux continued to watch her, the intensity of his gaze making her squirm.
“What?” she demanded.
“You harpies and your need for vengeance. It never ends.”
She replied between bites. “As if you Astra operate another way. I admit, though, I’m surprised you didn’t ask me how Erebus betrayed me.”
“Betrayal is betrayal.” A pause. Then, “Do you wish to become General, now that the rules for leadership have changed?”
Again, another question that revolved around her. “No. I’m on a different career path now.” Only a few months ago, a harpy had to be a virgin to rule over the species. Since the Astra’s arrival and Taliyah’s ascension to the throne as replacement for the slain Nissa, that requirement had gotten the boot.
With nine stars earned, only one challenge stood in the way of Blythe’s reign. Defeating her sister on the battlefield.
First, she had no desire to cut another beloved family member from Isla’s life. Second, Blythe didn’t want to harm her sister, and that’s what it would take to win a true battle between them. And third, she had her vengeance to oversee.
“Ah, yes,” he said, a little too silkily for her liking. Uh-oh. Had they switched to flirt mode again? “Your new career path. Let me guess. Destroyer of Astra.”
“Exactly. DOA for short. An acronym with a second, equally applicable meaning.”
He arched a brow, Astra-speak for do tell.
Her pulse fluttered. “Dead on arrival.” Meal forgotten, she reached up and grazed the ruby with the pad of a finger. “That’s my company motto.”
His gaze followed the action and heated. “Funny. This Astra has never felt more alive.”
Yes. They had definitely switched. “What do you want from me, Rue? No, don’t answer that.” She had a solo query left, and she had to make it count. What should she demand to know?
Thinking...
Oh! Here was something sure to ruin the mood and educate her about his physiology at the same time. “Why did your alevala kill the shifter?”
He shrugged. “My memories are tainted. In fact, you are never to peer at my alevala.”
Big tell. Huge! What part of his past didn’t he want her to see? Unless...
She gulped. Was he concerned about her well-being? “I feel cheated. You’re gonna have to elaborate and tell me why your memories are tainted.”
“Because I am tainted.” A flat statement. He clearly believed what he’d said with every fiber of his being.
Why would he think that? “Are you tainted because of all the fated mates you’ve killed during your battles to obtain a blessing?” Petty of her, yes, but a girl had to use the weapons at her disposal.
A tinge of color dotted his cheeks. “Couldn’t the same be asked of you? How many mated ones have you slain?”
The food she’d consumed settled like lead in her stomach. He wasn’t wrong. But as soon as she affirmed the truth, that yes, she had killed many fated mates on the battlefield, Roux would want to know how she could turn around and blame him for his actions. And he would have a point. But grief was an insatiable beast that fed on pain, and it didn’t care about points.
“Ask your final question,” she told him, swiping a sugar cookie from a tray. Though she was no longer hungry, the sweet treat helped sooth her nerves.