He closed the distance, coming up behind her and bracing his hands beside hers. At this angle, his body molded to hers, all but engulfing her smaller form.
“How’d you recruit so many different species?” she asked.
He looked out. Men crowded the area below, standing in formation. Shifters of every kind. Berserkers. Banshees. This particular contingent of soldiers awaited a command to attack, should one need to be issued.
“My soldiers come from worlds we’ve conquered,” he explained, “as well as those who thought to try and conquer us.”
She whipped around, remaining in the space between his arms and glaring up at him. “If you’re planning to enlist harpies—”
He snorted. “As if I would dare. I can’t even control the one under my direct command.”
“Okay. All right. I guess I won’t decapitate you right here and now, before your men can stop me.” Pure, sensual grace and languid carnality, she traced a finger down his sternum. “By the way, your alevala stopped moving again.”
He glanced down, and sure enough, the images resembled any other tattoo. All because he caged the snarpy in his arms, and she seemed content to stay put?
When would she need to feed? When could he pleasure her again?
Perhaps he’d made a mistake, not bringing her to climax these past two nights. Soon, her beautiful life would be cut short. Didn’t she deserve to indulge every desire beforehand?
Remembering the two warlords standing behind him, listening to every word, Roc called, “Meeting adjourned.”
He flashed Taliyah to the garden, next to the altar.
She groaned. “Not this again.”
“No, not this again.” He couldn’t bring himself to work. Instead, he sat on his bench and pulled her into his lap. “Let’s talk.”
* * *
Taliyah had fought low-level panic ever since Roux’s shocking announcement. Roc now knew about Blythe. He might go searching for her.
She scrambled to her feet, not an easy feat when you were straddling a man. As soon as she achieved success, he resettled her against him.
She didn’t want him searching for Blythe. Or anyone! For all Taliyah knew, there was a third harpy-snake-phantom. Another secret daughter from Erebus’s line. A sister she’d never met, and someone she wanted to save.
At least Roc hadn’t ordered the other phantom’s death.
“Let me go,” she insisted. “You have stuff to do, and so do I.”
His brows furrowed. “What stuff must you do?”
“Lots of things. Train without my ring. Catalog the identities of the sleeping harpies. Study. And that’s just the start of my list!” There was so much she didn’t know about phantoms, Astra and Erebus. Maybe she’d find a book in the library titled How to Bypass Stupid Trinite Posts. Maybe?
Never accept a picture of defeat.
“We can do those things later.” The cold air should have chilled her, but his heat engulfed her. He traced his fingers up the ridges of her spine. “Right now, we stay here and talk.”
Stubborn warlord. She did want to talk with him, to tell him what worried her and analyze the problems and solutions together. He could help; she knew he could. He knew more about phantoms and Erebus than she did. She’d read stories, but Roc had lived them.
If Blythe had possessed Roux and had exited him outside of Harpina, where was she? Why hadn’t she returned for Isla? Unless she’d already found and stashed the girl away? But why not alert Taliyah to her presence?
Either the phantom wasn’t Blythe, or something had prevented her dear sister from reaching out.
Why am I happy to see you?
Roux’s words replayed in her head. Okay, so the phantom was definitely Blythe, and Blythe had definitely possessed the Astra. But how had she escaped him? What if she hadn’t?
Taliyah’s eyes widened. Could her sister be trapped in there, buried so deep Roux no longer sensed her?
The questions almost tripped from her tongue. Say nothing! Roc was the source of her panic in the first place. Frustrated, she griped, “We only ever do things you want to do. When is it my turn?”
He nuzzled her with his beard, just as he’d done in the tower. “That depends on what you want to do. I offered conversation.”
“And I turned it down. Twice.” Despite herself, arousal swelled. With him, arousal always swelled. He knew just how to touch her...
The pleasure they’d shared before... She longed for more. But, for two days, he’d barely touched her. Resisting the urge to initiate contact had proved challenging.
Be the one who caved? No. So, the satisfaction she’d grown to adore had remained at bay.
Now he stared at her lips, as if he imagined kissing her. “I can scent how much you want me, snarpy. I...want to be on your team, but I can’t give you false hope. I—” He quieted. His head canted to the side, his gaze going far away.
A telepathic conversation ensued, and it definitely wasn’t a good one. More and more aggression pulsed from him.