The Great and Terrible (Out of Ozland #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Out of Ozland Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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Yes, yes. My feet carried me over. The base of my ring finger burned again, much hotter than before, and I frowned. Perhaps I shouldn’t do this. But mmm. That song. I bent down and reached out…

A strong grip on my wrist halted me just before contact. Gasping, I looked over my shoulder. Jasher. He towered behind me, scowling.

“These are sirenes,” he snapped. “They will inject you with toxin that liquifies your organs and drowns you in your own blood.”

Realization dawned slowly, horror nipping at its heels. The flowers had lured me using a siren’s song. And I’d let them.

Jasher released me, and I backed away from the cluster. The burn in my hand faded with every step I took. Interesting.

“Assume everything in this forest hopes to kill you. Because it does.” Jasher swept his narrowing gaze over me. With a tinge of accusation in his tone, he added, “The lovelier it is, the deadlier.”

CHAPTER 7

COMPLICATIONS ARISE

Imight have been better off trekking the forest on my own.

Huffing and puffing behind Jasher, I worried I was a farmgirl pushed past her limit. He kept a punishing pace: swift, unrelenting, and as merciless as he was. For all I knew, he planned to kill me through extreme exercise. Bathroom breaks were infrequent and hurried. Lunch consisted of jerky, a repeat of last night’s dinner, but eaten on the go.

We came upon twisted trees with blade-like limbs, snake infested scrub bushes, and a mushroom field guarded by red-eyed mice. Thankfully, nothing else attempted to murder me. But anything living watched me, sharpening a mental fork and knife. I wasn’t disappointed we weren’t approached by people I sensed in the shadows. More than a few times I wondered if the inhabitants of the forest feared Jasher.

“Oomph!” I slammed into him and ricocheted backward. Argh! This wasn’t the second, third or even fourth time he’d stopped abruptly like this. I’d already lost count.

“I told you to pay attention,” he stated, calmer than ever. Then he motored on, as if nothing untoward had occurred.

“Have you been doing that on purpose?” I demanded with gritted teeth. Technically, he hadn’t issued a question, but as frustration scraped at my fraying nerves, I didn’t care if I broke his rules.

“Yes.”

The simple response nearly wrenched a screech from me. “Why?”

“You are being foolish, getting lost in your head.”

Well. At least he hadn’t lost his propensity for blunt honesty. “You aren’t wrong, but how do you know that?” Since we’d kicked off, he hadn’t glanced my way once. And I would have noticed, having stared at his broad shoulders plenty, watching like a weirdo as beads of sweat trickled under metal and over muscles and tattoos. “Unlike the birds, you don’t have a third eye.” Wait. “Do you?”

“They don’t have three eyes. They have four.”

What!

“One is in the back of their heads. But alas, I’m without such a prized defense. I only know what you’re doing because I’m not lost in my head. I remain aware of my surroundings. Notice minute details.”

Okay, so that stung a little. “Well, la de da, aren’t you special?” I mocked. Forget my nerves. Both feet and each of my lumbar throbbed.

Jasher stopped abruptly, but I was ready for once and hopped to the side, avoiding a collision. A triumphant smile curved my lips as he pivoted, ensnaring my gaze.

“Ha! Joke’s on you.” I smirked up at him. “I never make the same mistake more than a dozen times.”

He searched my eyes for several long, protracted moments, and I gulped. Those sunset irises maybe, perhaps, warmed. Just the slightest bit? No, no, I must be mistaken. Taunting an emotionless executioner wasn’t the way to garner his friendship. Not that I wanted to become friends with Jasher. But an attitude adjustment on his part wouldn’t hurt. A little softening here, a lot less apathy there. No doubt he probably hoped to make me squirm with the intensity of his stare.

Going on the defensive, I raised my chin and glared, expecting him to react like everyone else: grow uncomfortable and move on. But the moment extended, seconds bleeding into minutes. Neither of us looked away.

The atmosphere charged, my awareness of him doubling. Tripling. I began to pant a little. His irises warmed further, and there was no mistaking it this time. He might not be used to eye contact, but he was living for this.

He stepped closer, erasing the small amount of distance between us. “Look away, or you might not like what happens next.”

Breath hitched in my lungs, and it was laced with his scent. A heady perfume as much as a drug. Did he plan to kiss me? I would refuse. Definitely. Emotionless killers weren’t my type. Although he had saved me from the beastie and the river so maybe a (passionate?) embrace with a gorgeous robot wouldn’t be the worst thing.



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