Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“Azar?” the General demanded. “Say something.”
“Shifting into me won’t do you any good,” Azar told him. “The elixir has already done its job. Lore and Neeka have become one being.”
No. No. Horror froze him in place. That couldn’t be right. One being? That was—No. No! “You’re lying,” Rathbone snarled, lunging for the male. Shaved held him back. “This is you, trying to save your fated.” He sprang forward, intending to tackle Azar and knock the truth out of him, but the chains sent an electric pulse through his body, and he dropped.
“You were never going to win,” Azar said as Rathbone twitched, unable to move otherwise. “Love is weakness.”
33
Lore hummed happily as she studied herself in a full-length mirror. Her beaded gown boasted a plunging neckline and a slitted skirt, the perfect style for her perfect hourglass figure. “I know all about your newest plan,” she told Neeka, fluffing curled hair. “You’re conserving your strength to try and take control of my body at the first opportunity.”
“Our body,” Neeka snapped. “Ours.” And she wasn’t not saving her strength. She was busy pondering. How had she taken over Lore’s mouth? Because, if she could take over the goddess’s mouth, she could take over her body. And if she could take over her body, she could walk into Azar’s sword, granting everyone but herself and Lore a happily ever after. But she was okay with that. To save Rathbone, she’d give up anything, even her life. “I am you and you are me.”
“So you wouldn’t care if I—excuse me, we—climbed into bed with Rathbone?” Lore asked.
“Go ahead. Try,” she said with a laugh. “I’d appreciate a front row seat to your rejection.”
The goddess humphed. “As if anyone can turn me down.”
Think! If Neeka didn’t do something soon, she’d have a front row seat to the destruction of harpykind. And if Rathbone was in the throne room, bound by chains? Hope was lost, the vision set, all of her efforts in vain.
“All your efforts were in vain,” Lore echoed.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “Why do you hate Rathbone and the Astra so much?”
“I don’t hate them. I only used Rathbone to flee a precarious situation after my former lover wised up.”
“Practicing your victory speech, my love?” The familiar male voice startled both Lore and Neeka. As the other woman turned, heart drumming, she caught a glimpse of Erebus the Deathless and groaned. “You are ravishing.”
“Darling!” Lore rushed to him to throw her arms around him. “How I missed you.”
Disdain rose in Neeka—no, in Lore. It filled her belly and spilled into the rest of her. Did Erebus have any idea the goddess used him too?
He cupped her cheeks and held her gaze, searching. He frowned. “You seem different. Nervous?”
Erebus didn’t sense Neeka was squatting inside his lady love? He hadn’t expected it? Word hadn’t yet spread to him? Interesting.
“I’m wonderful,” Lore said, grinning, soaking up his admiration. “This is the day we’ve been waiting for.”
“That it is. The ceremony is soon to begin.” He kissed her brow. “Once it concludes, I will ascend into a god of gods, and you will become my cherished queen.”
“Your queen,” she echoed. Her disdain sharpened, but her sweet disposition never wavered. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
“I’ll be waiting for you with bated breath.” He was gone a second later, leaving them alone.
Lore released a growl she’d held back. “He is such a bore. They all are. I’m doing you a favor, allowing you to tag along today and experience my greatness firsthand.”
“You’re the bore. World takeovers? Yawn. You are an average supervillain at best.”
“Maybe. But we all have our reasons.” A note of sadness seeped into her voice.
“Are you seriously trying to elicit sympathy right now?” Neeka probed her host’s mind for what those reasons might be but alas, the goddess was much better at hiding her thoughts.
“Stop that,” Lore snapped. “You aren’t worthy of my secrets.”
With a fortifying breath, the goddess flashed to Azar’s bedroom again, landing directly behind him. The warlord stood statue still while receiving a lecture from his Commander. Weapons were strapped all over him. He’d dressed for war.
Both males pegged her arrival, as evidenced by their bristling, but neither acknowledged her verbally. Treating her as insignificant?
Lore pressed her palms against Azar’s shoulder blades, her thoughts flying straight to a kiss the two had shared. How good he’d tasted. How ferocious he’d been. How hot. The power he’d exuded.
His muscles jerked upon contact, and the goddess chuckled, loving it.
Roc simply continued his lecture.
“You still have a shot with Azar,” Neeka pointed out, willing to utilize any advantage. “It isn’t too late. Don’t let those monsters you’re brewing eat everyone. Let him slay you to win his war. You’ll revive again, thanks to the Song of Life, we’ll find a way to extract me, and boom, happily-ever-after for everyone. You get more kisses and stardust. The works.”