The Plan Commences Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
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“By the gods, True!” she exclaimed to the skies. “Such beauty.”

He crossed his arms on his chest, his eyes never leaving her, and wholeheartedly agreed.

“This land!” she cried. “This land is magic from rich soil to regal trees to the very heavens.”

True noted some of the sprites had stopped zinging in order to watch Farah, and some of the others that were there for the Lights did the same.

She was not behaving in a queenly manner, not even the manner of a princess.

And he didn’t give a good gods damn.

Suddenly, she stopped twirling and looked to him, “I never wish to leave here. Must we leave here?”

“I’m afraid in just over a week we’re to be married, my love, and that’s happening in a temple in Notting Thicket,” he reminded her. “I think the guests who are traveling from all over Wodell would be cross if we didn’t show up.”

“You can get married here, Your Grace!” someone shouted. “We’ll be happy to stand as witness!”

True looked in that direction to see a man, a woman, and two children of about twelve and ten, all of them smiling at him and Farah, and he shouted back, “I’m very much looking forward to seeing my bride in whatever gown she’ll be wearing.”

“’Twill be the most beautiful bride in history, I’ll wager,” the wife called.

Farah clapped her hands together, leaned forward for some reason to tuck them between her knees, before she called back, “Thank you! That is so kind!”

“You are a great beauty, Lady Farah!” the woman yelled.

Farah righted and threw her arms out to her sides.

“And you are most lovely and demonstrating why my prince and I can never leave this glorious place,” Farah yelled back.

Watching this byplay, True felt something happen in his stomach he did not recognize.

“There’s a cottage for sale at the end of Tuck Lane,” another man across the rise shared loudly.

“Do not tell me that,” Farah returned, swinging his way. “We must be away to the Thicket tomorrow and if I know of a cottage that could be ours, I’ll chain my prince there, and since he’ll be noted missing, I’ll end up in a cell in the capital for princenapping, not in a temple wearing a heavy gown getting married.”

That feeling surged up True’s gullet.

“I’m not sure you can princenap your own prince,” another woman called.

“I’m not sure I want to find out, no matter how good the beef sandwiches are at The Antlers,” Farah replied.

And then it happened.

True burst out laughing.

It was not simply an expression of humor.

It was something more.

Something deeper.

Something preposterous.

Absurd.

Outlandish.

Something remarkable.

She was just being…

Funny.

That was it.

She had no care in that moment.

So he had no care in that moment.

He had no thought.

He just found his Farah funny.

And was happy she was happy.

As if sensing a difference in the timbre of his laugh, Farah whirled to look up at him with eyes that made it seem his amusement was even more marvelous than the beauty that illuminated all around.

“Princenapping?” he asked on a snicker, and he was uncertain he’d ever snickered in his life.

She smiled tentatively and noted, “I’m relatively certain that’s illegal.”

His waning laughter waxed.

She moved to him and took both of his hands.

He watched her, chuckling.

When his hilarity had begun to fade, she said softly, “You are the most handsome man I have ever known, but there is no compare when you’re laughing like that.”

He pulled one hand from hers, ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek, and smiling at her, said, “I’m delighted I please you.”

“You do. From the beginning.”

Any amusement died.

“Farah,” he whispered.

“Please, I know you don’t wish to, but here, in this place, please, in all your kindnesses to me, I must beg one more. Please, True, kiss me. Not a press of the lips. Really kiss me.”

At her words, his amusement wasn’t even remembered.

“You don’t think I wish to kiss you?” he asked.

She looked away.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

She turned her eyes again to him.

“I wish to kiss you,” he told her.

She shook her head. “You don’t have to—”

He cupped her cheek and bent his face to hers.

“Farah, I’ve been fighting the desire to take you in my arms for so long, it’s like it’s become a new limb. An unwanted one. And unwieldy one. But one I have to bear.”

She blinked up at him.

“But…Elena,” she whispered.

“What about Elena?” he inquired.

“What about Elena?” she breathed, her eyes enormous, glowing more golden than the globes around them.

“That’s what I asked.”

“You’re in love with her.”

“I was. And then I met you.”

She swayed into his body to such an extent, he had no choice but to do what he’d have done anyway.

He caught her in his arms.

She felt good there.

As always.

“Really?” she asked, not hiding her shock.

He was not shocked.

He was annoyed.

“I’ve hardly been hiding it.”

“I thought you were…to be nice, well…faking it. For me.”



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