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Ophelia’s stomach rumbled, her appetite unconcerned by the emotional crisis. “Ugh! Why am I so hungry? We just ate.”

“No. I ate. You pushed food around your plate.” He flashed to the machine, punched the glass to acquire a corn dog, and returned to her. “You can earn this by asking me a question,” he said, stretching out. He masterfully maneuvered her into the crook of his arm. Her new favorite place to be.

She asked the first thing to pop into her head, then bit into her treasure. “Why did you kill your father?”

“I killed him the day I met him,” he said, petting her hair. “I learned he had arranged my mother’s murder and sold me to the Order. A school for child assassins, where I was taught to detach from my emotions. By the time I left, I’d already amassed hundreds of names on my kill list. Including friends. My father had much to answer for.” He offered the information without hesitation and yes, detached from emotion.

Sympathy welled as she imagined young Halo, forced to murder friends he’d loved. How the memories must torment him.

How would he react when he learned he’d killed a potential gravita not once but twice?

Guilt and fear surged. Maybe she shouldn’t tell him...ever. For his own good. “I’m sorry you suffered as a child. But I’m not sorry for the male you’ve become. He’s pretty wonderful upon occasion and shockingly tempting always.”

He blinked at her with surprise and cleared his throat. “All right, yes. I understand why Vivi’s praise brings you such encouragement.” Pause. “You like when I comfort you?”

Dude. That plaintive tone got her straight in the feels. “How could I not like it? It really highlights your obsession with me. Your best feature.”

“Thank you for noticing,” he deadpanned. “I’ve worked hard on it.”

Genuine laughter burst from her. A true shocker. Amusement? At a time like this?

A smile curved the corners of his mouth. “You sound like pure joy when you laugh, Elia.”

Sexy, intense warlord. She rolled onto him, draping her body over his, and crossed her arms on his chest. Resting her chin on top of the pile, she peered at him through her lashes. “You get a four-star review for your comforting. I’m deducting one star so you have something to strive for. Goals are important.” If only he understood hers; he would be the perfect male.

“True.” Toying with locks of her hair, he asked, “And what are your goals? Other than becoming General.”

Did she even want to become a General anymore? Where did she go from here? Ophelia had sought the title to prove her worth to Nissa.

Speaking of proving her worth. “You know one of my other goals. I’ve made no secret of it.” Careful. Proceed with caution. “I plan to help you defeat Erebus, the way my General commanded.”

He frowned. “Elia—”

“No, don’t say anything else right now. Let’s do something wild and crazy. Let’s relax!” So much had happened today, leaving her in a tailspin and emotionally wrung out. First had come the earth-shattering pleasure with Halo. Then learning she’d faced banishment. Then hearing the crime of omission committed by Nissa.

The revelation was still raw. Ophelia knew the truth of her origins, but she’d never felt less like herself. For years, she’d denied the needs of her nymph, ashamed of her “weaknesses,” desperate to impress someone unwilling to be impressed.

“Very well. We will relax,” Halo said. “We will...rest.”

Minutes passed in silence, but neither of them drifted off. Her mind was too chaotic. More than that, a harpy couldn’t sleep with anyone but trusted sisters or a consort. Halo hadn’t claimed her as his gravita, so he couldn’t be her consort yet.

Unless he was hers, but she wasn’t his.

* * *

For the next six days, Ophelia stewed about her predicament. What else could she do? Every day, she was forced to occupy the same chair in the same conference room for hours, ignored as Halo, Roc, and Taliyah talked war.

On the plus side, the meetings turned Irresistible Halo into the Machine. Cold, callous, unbending and seemingly unaffected by her swinging moods. Almost resistible.

The Machine refused to relent to her request and give her a chance to prove herself. He expected Ophelia to stay out of the fight, and it was complicating everything. Her thoughts. Her emotions. Her every decision. Today especially. Their reprieve was over: she sensed it. Erebus would strike soon after the freeze.

There would be another battle. Another death.

Remove Halo’s refusal from the equation, and Ophelia was ready. Become another beast? Bring it. She was stronger than before. And this time, she expected the god’s command to kill the Astra. She knew to fight against it.

Once she overcame the compulsion to obey, she could willingly lay down her life. Halo could strike without opposition, completing the labor. No muss or fuss for him. High honors for her.


Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy