The Rising Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #4)

Categories Genre: Dragons, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
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The cavern about them was shaped as a shell, the pearlescent surface glowing blue, green and pink.

Many globes all about laced with twine hung suspended by nothing in midair and they shone with the same colors.

The sand that led up to the island in the middle of the space was an immaculate white, and so fine, it was almost dust and soft as velvet under his feet.

And sitting two spectacular thrones on that island were Triton and Medusa.

Her throne was made of shell and pearls and tufted at the feet with floating anemone.

His was made of branches and rivulets and shelves of coral.

Mars studied the gods.

They had not worn their crowns when he had last seen them.

They wore them now.

At the front of Medusa’s head, through her red hair, sprang a tiara made of spiraled shells and starfish, lengths of pearls and sprays of diamonds, a star of those last coasting onto her forehead, and ropes of both falling down the sides of her face.

Triton’s crown of gold and shells surrounded his head, out of the inside of which sprung meandering spikes of coral.

And this time, instead of fins, they both had legs.

The lot of them walked up the sand and stood before the two gods as Triton studied them expressionlessly and Medusa smiled in welcome.

“It is good that you came,” she stated.

“And thank you for the welcome,” Jorie replied, dropping to a knee and bending his head to her.

Silence gave his hand a tug, and Mars was not feeling much like bending a knee to two gods he did not worship and who put him, his wife, his friends, and countless others through hell.

But he did it all the same.

As the others did beside him.

“Rise, my kings and queens,” Medusa invited.

He stood as did Silence at his side as well as the others.

Medusa’s face grew grave. “We wish you to know, we do understand how much was lost.”

No one said anything.

Though, Mars doubted they did.

“And we know there is nothing that can salve the hurt or take away the pain,” she went on.

Again, no one spoke.

But Mars knew that was the sad, bloody truth.

“But we shall try,” she whispered, turned her head and prompted, “Beloved?”

Triton grunted.

Then he flicked a disinterested hand.

And before each of them gleamed a golden trident with three intricately forged spikes at the ends.

“Take hold, my kings and queens,” Medusa instructed. “These are yours, for I sense you have grown close, and would like, with a toss of your trident, to be in the realm of another to commune and make merry.”

Mars glanced down at his wife, who was reaching out to her trident, and as her fingers wrapped around, she looked up at him in happy wonder.

Gods, his Silence.

He grinned down at her and took hold of his own trident.

“This will also,” Medusa went on, “if you have hold of it, allow you to visit Jorie. And perhaps,” she lifted both hands, palms cupped and facing up in front of her before spreading them out, “us.”

Triton grunted again.

Medusa leaned forward and said conspiratorially, “He is used to his own company. We will have to work on his hospitality.”

“You have our gratitude,” True spoke for them all.

She tipped her head to the side and asked, “For all you did, all you lost, all you gave, do you think this is all we will give you to show our gratitude?”

A golden magical trident that made travel between realms happen in seconds and gave him the opportunity to visit his brother-in-law when Silence went to see him, Mars was content.

What further form a god might consider to show gratitude made Mars brace.

The goddess did not make them wait.

Medusa threw her arm out before her, cast it left, toward Aramus and Ha-Lah at the end, and brought it right, where Mars and Silence were at the other end.

From her fingers, shimmering glitter flew.

Gathered.

Multiplied.

Separated.

Formed.

And in front of Aramus formed his man Cat.

And in front of Farah formed Sofia.

In front of True formed Mercy.

In front of Elena formed Jasmine.

In front of Cassius formed a woman that Mars had never seen, but he knew was Cass’s mother.

But he did not study her.

For in front of him formed…

His father.

Ares.

Blue-white glimmers shimmered around him, and he heard the others murmuring but he paid no mind to that.

He whispered, “Papa?”

Silence pressed herself to his side.

His father’s head bent as he looked down to Silence.

“Papa,” he called.

Ares looked to his son and he smiled greatly.

“I knew you would love her,” Mars said softly, and Silence pressed closer to his side.

“I am sorry, you must say your farewells,” Medusa warned.

“I am happy,” Mars told his sire.

And then he watched his father’s handsome face grow soft with love and pride.

This, before his form shimmered and disappeared to nothing.

Mars closed his eyes and tucked his chin in his neck.

“He’s almost as handsome as you,” he heard Silence whisper.



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