Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“The dominos are in place,” she muttered. What was done was done, and there was no reversing time and changing it. But maybe this didn’t have to be a bad thing. Lore would experience an unshakable bond, too. What if Neeka convinced her to accept a second death, without birthing the horde. Azar would win his task—not that he deserved it—and no one would become dinner.
Heart thudding, she swiped up the second glass and saluted the goddess. “Here’s to your downfall.” She drained the concoction. Two doses. Perhaps her side of the bond would prove stronger than Lore’s, allowing her to better control the goddess.
Lore snorted. “Whatever strategy you think you’ve conjured will fail. I’ve thought of everything.”
A panting Rathbone jolted upright. His gaze landed on them without preamble, as if he’d tracked them while sleeping. Flash. He materialized between them, his big body a tower of menace as he captured Lore by the throat. He stood in profile, allowing Neeka to (mostly) read his lips. “I’ll meal with you wind the time combs,” he spat at the goddess.
Or maybe he’d said, “I’ll deal with you when the time comes.” Possibly?
Lore laughed, even as her skin turned blue and blood leaked from the corners of her mouth. “Enjoy the next few days. They are your last,” she said before flashing away.
Rathbone spun, facing Neeka fully. His entire countenance transformed from wrathful to sensual in a blink. “I believe you mentioned something about sexing me once I awoke. Yes, I heard you.”
“I did mention sexing. But I should probably tell you what happened.” With a baker’s clock ticking in the back of her mind, she wound her arms around her male and tried to forget the coming battle, if only for a little while. If there were anything left for her to do, she wouldn’t remember while stressing. But. She had a confession to make. She’d promised him honesty, and she intended to deliver. “Do you recall the elixir I told you about? The one meant to override your bond with your mate?”
“Yes.” He cupped her backside and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “Why?”
“Don’t be mad!” Despite his groan, she rushed to continue. “I drank it days ago, before we reached our agreement, and Lore...she drank it today. I don’t feel any different, and she didn’t seem to either, but that’s because it requires baking.”
He stiffened. Drew in a calming breath. Held it. As he released it, tension seeped from him. He kneaded her giving flesh. “I appreciate you telling me, and I think I have a solution. Devote ourselves to strengthening our bond so nothing can override it.”
He kissed her softly, and dang it, she melted against him. “That is the cheesiest, most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” she told him.
“I think I heard it on a soap.”
She laughed, her blood heating. This male. Oh, this male. Imperfectly perfect for her. She craved a future with him. “I refuse to let you become Lore and sacrifice your life to pay my debt to Taliyah,” she said, toying with his hair.
“I will be Azar at the ceremony. I’ll kill Lore on his behalf, freeing you from any unnatural bond while certifying the Astra’s win. Of course, I’ll have to hobble Azar beforehand, so he doesn’t interfere, but you did mention something about wiggle room.”
Oooh. “Rathbone, you beautiful, brilliant beast, you, that just might work!” Bright rays of hope beamed light into shadowy corners of her mind. They could actually pull off the big V. “You’ll have to chain me up in case the elixir kicks in. And provide me with the world’s most romantic gesture to make up for it.”
“Deal.” He lifted her off her feet, grinding his erection against her core as she wound her legs around him. “And now that the king and his chosen queen have reached an accord, we will celebrate.”
“I’m intrigued. How do we celebrate in the Realm of Agonies?”
“With orgasms.”
She chuckled. “I approve. But you can’t just bestow such an important title upon me. There’s got to be a ceremony or something.”
“I beg to differ. I’m sovereign, my word law, and I say Neeka the Wanted is my queen. Therefore, you are my queen.”
Tears of joy welled, blurring her vision. “Well. In that case, I guess I’m your queen.”
They shared a soft smile.
“I once told you that I’d give you a grand love story,” she bragged, “and that’s exactly what I’ve done.”
“It is indeed.”
* * *
Rathbone dipped his head and pressed his mouth to hers, thrilling as Neeka opened for him and thrust her tongue against his. He fed her passion and adoration, giving her his promises, hopes, and tomorrows in return.
She tore at his clothes. “Guess what? We have more to celebrate than originally agreed upon,” she rasped against his lips. “I’m Neeka the Wanted, and I’m all in. I’m yours, and you are mine. I admit it. We’re a couple. The harpy-oracle and the red king. You’re my consort. We’re a family. Together forever. No takebacks.” Had she covered all the bases?