Page List


Font:  

She slammed into him like a cannonball. As he flew back, he clamped her tight. Halo absorbed the bulk of the impact with only minor aches and pains. When they skidded to a halt, a cloud of dirt and debris surrounded them. He lay on his back, with the harpy draped over his chest.

The moment the dust settled, she attempted to scramble off. Too bad. He flipped her over, trapping her with his much heavier weight.

“Oh, no you don’t.” She clawed, bit, punched, and bucked, a living grenade—but she didn’t free herself. “I won’t be a good little prisoner.”

“You’ll be whatever I tell you.” His control nearly burned away, torched by a flashfire of arousal. To restrain her arms above her head and disarm her, Halo had to work against her as much as his treacherous body. Pressure ebbed and pleasure flowed, until something inside him threatened to snap.

Sweat beaded his brow. Her softness...her curves... Her passion. This female felt everything. For a moment, he longed to bask in it all.

Snapping... “Harpy. Be. Still,” he grated. I will not thrust my hips.

“Make me.” She bucked harder.

I will not thrust.

She ground against his throbbing length, and he sucked in a breath.

Halo bellowed, “You will mind me, Ophelia.”

To his surprise, she did, finally going still. Also panting and glaring. “You are such a douchebag. Now do us both a favor and put your chub club away. This isn’t happy ending hour.”

Inhale. Exhale. “Trust me. I would put the...club away if I could.” Rational thought flickered on and off. “We will return to my bedroom, and I will explain what’s happening to us.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. We can talk here. Who’s gonna eavesdrop?”

A measure of calm trickled over him. She could be reasonable at times. A surprising development. “The palace offers better defenses against Erebus.”

“Does it?” She smiled with pure malice. “Rumors suggest innocent harpies get chained and slaughtered in there.”

Or not so reasonable. He closed his eyes. Tried to center. Failed.

He needed to not touch her, but he also needed to not risk another chase. Focusing on her, he said, “We’ll chat in your bedroom.” Though her file hadn’t listed an address, he figured she lived in the barracks. “You weren’t harmed in there.”

“Give you my address so you can pop over to borrow a cup of my sugar, wink-wink? Hard pass.” Defiant and beautiful, she scowled at him. “Now, if you don’t mind or even if you do, get off me, freak.”

Halo ground his teeth and flashed her to the palace library, landing them both in an upright position. “I will let you go, and you will stay put. Understand?” He pried one hand from her, then the other.

When she remained in place, he breathed easier and scanned the room for threats. Books, artifacts and priceless treasures filled the enormous, three-tiered chamber. No shifting shadows. No odd scents.

“Well? What’s going on?” Ophelia issued the demand as if she’d waited weeks for a response. Unwilling—or perhaps unable—to stand in place, she paced between two tables. “I deserve to know. Or did you already forget today’s headline? Harpy dies due to foolish Astra’s mistake.”

He flinched. He would never forget the horror of her death.

Erebus will pay. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but here’s the full story. Every five hundred years, each Astra must complete a specific task, one after the other. If we succeed, we receive a blessing from Chaos. Five hundred years of victory. If we fail, we are cursed with five hundred years of defeat. This time, we fight for more than the blessing. We seek to ascend.”

“Keep talking. I’m listening.” Pacing, pacing. Graceful. Fluid. Carnal.

Halo tracked her with his gaze, increasingly...hungry. The way she moved. His palms itched, eager to explore her curves and hollows. “In the past, I’ve always been tasked with the hunting and killing of a specific god. This time, I must complete twelve feats or labors of strength and cunning. This started yesterday. Which is also today. The day will continue to repeat until the final battle concludes.”

“Sure. A typical Groundhog Day situation.” She rubbed her wrists, as if remembering the shackles, making him flinch anew. “Why am I aware of what you’re doing? No one else is.”

“Erebus hopes to use you against me.”

A humorless laugh erupted from her. “That’s ridiculous. How can he use me against you? Why would he bother? We’re strangers. I’m nothing to you, and you’re nothing to me.”

Those words. I’m nothing to you, and you’re nothing to me. Hmm. They scraped Halo’s nerves raw. Something he didn’t understand. What did her opinion of him matter? His gravita or not, her admiration had no bearing on the situation.

“What did the god say to you?” he demanded.

“Before he plunged a knife into my airway? Sorry, but you don’t get info from me until I get info from you. Tell me why he hopes to use me against you.”


Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy