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Yes, he should.

But he wouldn’t.

Taliyah Skyhawk had scrambled his thoughts.

Had he ever beheld such delicate features and fathomless eyes? Eyes a stunning shade of blue, reminding him of a frozen ocean, with depths unknown. Thick slashes of kohl rimmed spiky black lashes, providing a carnal frame.

Plaited silver-white locks created a crown effect, turning the harpy into a queen. Pale, silken skin gave an illusion of fragility. And her body... Exquisite.

Slender and toned, she wore a leather halter, with a built-in breastplate. A short skirt revealed long, lean legs strapped with multiple weapons. Her only other adornments were a plain metal band circling her left index finger and a small dagger hanging from a chain around her neck.

Her best and worst attribute was her scent. She smelled like frostberries. Like...home. Every inhalation made his chest clench.

She must be my bride. He was to pick whoever attracted him most. Therefore, no other would do.

When you sought greatness, you pushed and tested yourself. You didn’t choose the easy path. Rather, you endured hardness. Taliyah definitely qualified as a hardship. He’d known it the moment he’d first spied her.

Exactly twelve months ago, Roc arrived in Harpina. He’d walked the grounds undetected, taking notes, crafting the perfect battle plan, when this pale beauty had exited a shop in the market, across the street from him. The sight of her had arrested him. Then she’d turned, revealing small iridescent wings. His blood had heated, and he’d morphed into a living furnace.

She’d reminded him of home then, as well. Having spent the first part of his childhood in a frozen tundra, he’d looked at her and thought, She’s a winter wonderland.

He’d never enjoyed the cold, but he’d always adored the fire-warmed rooms in his parents’ palace. His older sisters had read him bedtime stories before a popping hearth.

Chest clenching, he shut down any thoughts outside the present. Securing Taliyah Skyhawk as his bride mattered, nothing else.

“Wedding?” she choked out.

He waved away her question. “You are part snakeshifter, yes?” Every time he’d come to Harpina, he’d looked for her. While he hadn’t come across her a second time, he had caught a thread of gossip about her. Well respected among her peers and highly protective of her family and friends. Bloodthirsty to the extreme.

“Wedding?” she repeated.

With the exception of phantoms, snakes were his least favorite species. Born liars with a seducer’s nature, all of them. Usually cowardly when pressed. Flattery spilled from their tongues without cease. They tempted and lured, happiest when they inspired misery. However, Roc was willing to tolerate this snakeshifter on a temporary basis. Hardships and all.

“Wedding,” he finally affirmed. She would be his most hauntingly beautiful bride yet. A shame he must sacrifice her to his god in thirty days. “Ours, in case I wasn’t clear.”

“Me? Marry you?” The harpy bristled. “I would rather—Oh...no. No, no, no.” She paled and whispered, “Say yes? Really, Neeks?”

Neeks? “You will agree, Taliyah.” For multiple reasons. Mostly because he commanded it. Roc expected absolute compliance from everyone at every moment. If someone refused to obey him, he quickly taught them the error of their ways.

He never received a second refusal.

“You really don’t want to marry me,” Taliyah told him with gritted teeth. “I have a temper only a consort can calm.” She flared her claws. “Want to guess if you’re my consort?”

Calm her? Roc had never calmed anyone from anything, not even himself. “Want to guess if I dread your temper? Harpies might be stronger than giants, but only as long as their wings are free. Pin them, and you’re all as weak as wee pixies.”

Oh, she didn’t like that bit of truth. She bared her fangs and snapped, “I will never marry you. Not even for the honor of making myself a widow.”

Where was the cowardly side of her snakeshifter nature? “When you say yes, and you will, I’ll grant you thirty days to kill me. An honor no one else receives. Succeed, and you’ll become Commander of my men. When you fail, and you will, I’ll sacrifice your virgin body to my god.”

“Sacrifice? You’re a killer by nature. How does ending your wife qualify as a sacrifice?”

She had no idea. More than anything, Roc wanted a family of his own. Wanted to protect his loved ones. To provide for them.

He proceeded as if she hadn’t spoken, ready to get this done. “Don’t think to seduce me or another warlord to disqualify yourself. I’ll kill you anyway, and your people with you.” Let there be no misunderstanding between them. He wasn’t a good man.

The muscles in her shoulders knotted with aggression. Not an unusual occurrence in his presence. Despite this, she did something no other prospective bride had done. She pressed a hand against her heart and fluttered her lashes. “Murderous threats against my people? Finally! The romance my life has been missing. Should I say yes now or wait until you describe exactly how you’re going to kill everyone? You know, to really flood me with desire.”


Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy