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One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I bet you’re maddening to the Commander. The sanctimonious Roc is so rarely challenged. I must say, I’m glad fate chose you as his gravita.”

Her ears twitched. Don’t ask. Don’t do it. “What’s a gravita?” Well, she’d asked.

“A mate.”

She gulped. “Mate, as in another name for bride? Or mate, a term meaning...consort?”

With all kinds of relish, he told her, “Consort.”

No. Nope. He lied. He must. She knew she wasn’t Roc’s mate. Not because he’d shouted his thoughts on the matter before stomping off and avoiding the topic altogether. But because of...reasons. He couldn’t consider Taliyah his mate.

“You are skeptical,” Erebus said. “Daughter, I knew you belonged with him before your birth. Why do you think I put you in his path?”

“Wrong. I put myself in his path.”

He shrugged, unperturbed by her denial. “You wear his stardust. A substance the Astra produce only for their gravitas. It acts as a warning to others.”

Stardust... Like the white-hot glitter on her skin? She did remember reading something about it during her studies. But she couldn’t...she wouldn’t... Argh! What if she was Roc’s gravita? He’d marked her without permission.

The possibility infuriated her...mostly. Had he deduced what she was to him from the first moment? Was that why he’d blurted out you the first time he’d seen her? But why marry her just to kill her? Why—Wait.

“What do you mean I belonged to Roc before I was born?”

Her father stroked the handle of his weapon. “I...see.”

He was an oracle?

Relish in full force, he asked, “Do you think Roc will die in your stead?”

Okay, enough of this. “I do think he’ll die in my stead, yes, because I won’t give him a choice. I won’t back down, I won’t give up, I won’t surrender.” Taliyah Skyhawk fought until the very end.

Blink. Suddenly, Erebus towered in front of her, and the brand on her nape blistered her with cold. Calm. Steady. She remained in place, standing her ground.

“You don’t know how glad I am to hear this.” A creepy smile contorted his face. “You will destroy Roc for me.”

Possessive instincts swamped her. “No, I’ll destroy Roc for me. His death is mine to mete out.”

“Oh, I don’t want him dead, daughter. I want him miserable, and you are my chosen tool. Why do you think I bedded your mother?”

“I’m no one’s tool. And go ahead and mention my mother and threaten Roc again. See what happens.” Like Roc, Erebus was a god with incredible power. But so what? She might not be a General—yet. She might be hungry and a little weak, but she had combat skills and a petty streak no one could guard against.

Erebus canted his head, his gaze twitching. He grinned. “The true fun is starting. Roc knows you’re gone, and he’s far from pleased. Enjoy your evening, daughter. I know I will.”

As she lunged to strike, he dematerialized. She spun, panting, the brand cooling.

Minutes ticked by without incident. Finally, she released the pressure on her limbs and straightened, her mind reeling. What just happened?

Roc couldn’t know she was gone. She currently resided in the Realm of the Forgotten. He didn’t even remember her name. But what if he did know she was gone? What would he do upon her return?

A beat of apprehension left her floundering. The sooner she returned to Harpina to scope out the situation, the better.

She rushed to the dungeon to feed and—“No!” The men were gone, a note from Neeka taped to the cell door.

Cruel to be kind. Sorry not sorry!

“Why, that little...” Though Taliyah’s trust in her friend remained unbroken, she struggled to find a higher purpose in this. Why leave her in a weakened state around the Astra? Especially now?

Mood souring, Taliyah clasped the key to Harpina. Here goes nothing. The fortress vanished, her bedroom appearing.

A battle plan formed. Find Roc. He might be sleeping, allowing her to continue on with her night of hunting and feeding. If he remained awake and impossibly aware, she needed to know it now, now, now.

Wait. Darkness encompassed the room. When she’d left, lights from the chandelier had shone brightly.

Roc’s scent filled her nose. Intense heat caressed her skin from behind, and she froze. He was nearby. And he’d just caught her reappearance. He might not have known she’d left before, but he knew it now.

Heart thudding, she slowly turned...and there he was. Reclining in a chair near the hearth, enveloped by thick, black shadows.

“Would you like to explain yourself, wife?” He switched on a lamp, light chasing the shadows away, revealing harsh and quiet rage.

Going on the defensive, she snapped, “Do I need to explain? We’re at war, and I’m using every weapon at my disposal.”

Her honesty threw him.

When he opened his mouth to respond, she added, “If you complain about this, you’re only admitting you’re afraid I’ll win.”


Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy