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He shifted his gaze. “I’ll return in an hour. Two hours. Possibly tomorrow. You’d better be here.” With a final glance at his hands, he stomped from the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Stay here? Screw that! Taliyah jumped to her feet and stormed into the bedroom she’d claimed as her own, where she donned a tank top and shorts. Forget waiting until he fell asleep to visit the Realm of the Forgotten. Something had happened to him, between them, and she needed to know what. Then she would feed.

Nothing—not even a shockingly sensual Astra—would stop her.

15

A jumble of emotions, Roc headed for...somewhere at a clipped pace, his stomping steps seeming to shake the entire palace. He needed to burn off excess energy and fast.

Taliyah was... She... He hadn’t wanted to believe it when he’d been in the room with her, and he hated to believe it now. But he could not deny the evidence staining his hands.

He flinched as he brought his palms into the light. A glittery powder coated his skin. Stardust.

Chaos hadn’t sought to teach him a lesson: the god tried to warn him. Taliyah was his gravita. The woman who challenged him at every turn belonged to him, body and soul. No wonder she’d drawn him so strongly, so quickly.

Where was he supposed to go from here? How was he supposed to treat her? Ignore her? Enjoy her while he could? Attempt to build an immunity to her charms? Was resisting her appeal an impossibility now that he’d tongued those pretty pink nipples, sucked that piercing and heard her soft cries of pleasure?

He remembered the advice he’d once offered Solar, when his Commander had faced this very situation. Starve your body, feed your duty. The desire will go away.

A snarling laugh left Roc. He doubted lust this all-consuming ever faded.

As he stormed down a winding staircase, he rubbed the spot above his heart. The awful, horrific things he’d done to acquire the missing alevala teased the edge of his mind. Actions he’d taken against Solar and his siren gravita.

Taliyah must be payback.

Roc didn’t understand how he’d found her. Why now? Why her? What had broken past his defenses and summoned the stardust to his palms? The sight of her in that slinky black dress? Finally getting his hands on her curves? Conversing with her as equals, enjoying her wit and flavor? The nipple ring? Those wings? Was it the way she melted for him while challenging him?

Whatever the reason, something had changed for him. The second he’d flipped her onto those pillows and run his hands over silken skin fevered by his touch, he’d simmered with heat like never before. To cool down, he’d needed to overcome more of her chill. To touch more—all—of her. But everywhere his fingers had traveled, a sheen of something glittery remained behind.

He’d marked her, staking an undeniable claim. Yet he must kill her. Were he to save Taliyah, the way Solar had saved his siren, he’d only delay the inevitable. The second he received the curse, he lost the ability to protect her from phantoms. Ascending ceased being an option. For five hundred years, they required hibernation to survive. And when they awoke? What then? The wedding and killing of another woman? What about the wife who lived?

No couple was more doomed.

To confess to his men or not? There might be no need. Stardust faded with time. The scent dulled. Roc had only to keep his distance from the temptress to make it go away. But the thought...didn’t settle well.

He stalked around a corner and punched a wall. On impact, his knuckles split. Blood trickled over the stardust, hiding it.

He’d never acted so volatile before. Usually, he remained calm, regardless of the situation. But then, his carefully crafted world had never teetered on the brink of total collapse before.

Though his excess energy remained unchanged with his second punch, a flicker of common sense prevailed. Why worry about this? He was a warlord first and foremost, a gravita bride still just a bride. A sacrifice. A gravita bride was the greatest sacrifice of all, perhaps even the tipping point necessary for his ascension.

For the first time, he must part with something...precious. Future happiness with the woman destined to rule at his side. The family he’d so badly craved.

Punch, punch, punch. Upon his next turn, he spotted Ian. His brother toiled over a section of wires protruding from the wall. Undoing one of Taliyah’s traps?

He wouldn’t tell his men about the stardust, he decided. Not until he’d worked up a plan. They had enough to deal with at the moment.

So altruistic, Commander.

His brother noticed him and leaped to attention. “Phantoms have arrived?”

Roc looked ready for battle? “Not yet. I’d...like to speak with the prisoners.” Yes. That. He had questions about Taliyah, and they had answers. “Continue with your duties,” he said, then flashed to the dungeon.


Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy