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)
“I don’t know.” Had Lore witnessed the kiss?
He expected a resurgence of guilt, but no. There was none to be found. “If she’s upset, she’ll learn to deal.” Lore had advocated for a stable. If he opted to comply, she wasn’t allowed to complain about the one he selected to occupy it.
He liked this idea. Neeka’s need to be a male’s one and only would be satisfied. She would belong to Rathbone alone—until she found her consort.
The second paddle snapped in half, but thankfully, both pieces remained in the boat. He swallowed another curse. If Neeka found her consort, she’d leave Rathbone in her dust, taking her delightful teasing and sexy greediness with her. This other male would receive her attention. Her kisses.
“That’s very alpha of you.” The beautiful oracle drew her legs closer to her chest and rested her elbows on her knees. “Tell me again how you’ll defy your beloved wife to sleep with me but this time flex your biceps while you’re talking.”
She meant to shame him, he knew, but he did as suggested and flexed, assuming different power poses. Better to tease her than sulk about the future. “Go ahead. Eye-feast. You can’t even help yourself.”
A magical laugh left her, and she pressed her fingers over her mouth. His chest clenched. A familiar sensation now, and something only she elicited. A benefit he refused to part with.
Must earn another. “For my next trick, watch as I—” He went quiet when she moaned, her features contorting with pain.
“Carrot?” Rathbone demanded, on instant alert. Concern radiated from him. “What’s wrong?”
She rubbed her temples. “Someone is attempting to Peer through me. Don’t worry. They won’t breech my mental barricades. Plus, I can track them, following the breadcrumbs they’ve left behind.”
“Peer?” he asked, but she’d already closed her eyes.
“I think I sense my mother,” she muttered. “She’s not an oracle, but my father taught her to Peer when he taught me. Why would she do this, though?”
Movement to his left. He swung his head in that direction, searching...there. In the distance, thick, dark smoke filled the air. It blocked out everything behind the two immortals who materialized, standing inside a boat of their own. Azar and the unfamiliar female at his side. A harpy who resembled Neeka. Both wore goggles.
“Got you!” Neeka exclaimed.
The smoke engulfed them, concealing their bodies before sweeping closer and closer to Rathbone’s boat.
“Oh, no Azar did not,” his oracle screeched, jumping to her feet.
A moment later, the smoke reached them. For the first time in Rathbone’s existence, he couldn’t see the world around him.
Fury and frustration converged. He heard a whoosh a nanosecond before a double-pronged spear cut through both of his eye sockets, throwing him into the water.
Lights out.
18
Okay. So. Neeka probably should’ve predicted this. But honestly? She’d been too wrapped up in her misery over Rathbone, plus her mission, and also too distracted by the Peer invader—who she now knew beyond a doubt was, in fact, her mother. And, yeah, okay, despite all that, she’d maybe, possibly been having too much fun bantering with the red king, who had surprised her at every turn. But, um, why hadn’t he removed the spear, healed, and returned to the boat?
He could help her save the day from Azar and Grenwich.
“Couldn’t defeat the One and Only on your own, Astra?” she called, feigning nonchalance. “You needed a hand? See what I did there?” With the obligatory harpy taunt delivered, she checked out of the conversation and dove into the water to find her partner.
The icy temperature shocked her system, and she gasped, swallowing a mouthful of sweet-tasting liquid. The very same liquid required for the elixir. No time to bottle the stuff. She’d have to wring nineteen drops from her clothes later. As her stomach churned, she searched the increasingly murky depths for her companion.
Despite stinging eyes, she focused long enough to pinpoint a stream of crimson. She followed it and jolted. There he was. Rathbone, but not.
Again and again, he shifted into other forms. And he did it in a blink, changing from one animal or inanimate object to another. From a black jaguar to the stuffed teddy bear she’d burned, to a house cat, to a diamond necklace, to a dog, to a dagger, to a snake, to a portrait, to a honey badger, to an ink pen.
She’d known he could shift into other beings, but she’d had no idea he also shifted into things. Such a tricky, tricky king. There’d been no nanny cam. Only the Only.
Why did this make him so much sexier?
Wings working overtime, she swam as fast as possible. Almost there... No matter his form, Rathbone continued to bleed. He wasn’t healing. Or awake. He couldn’t flash them to safety. Unless she forced the issue by Peering? Worth a shot.
The act would drain her, but better she pass out later than die with him now.