The Wrath – Rise of the Warlords Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
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He pressed a soft kiss into her brow. “Young Rathbone would’ve adored avenging young Neeka. He knows what it’s like to be despised by a parent.”

“Oh?”

“I tell people I’m Rathbone the Only because I’m the last one standing on a battlefield. The truth is, my mother dubbed me If Only. If only I was as strong as my father. If only I were faster, smarter, more skilled.”

“Oh, my sweet baby.” Neeka poured herself over him then, offering comfort of her own. No wonder people coupled up. Did anything compare to this? “How did you get rid of the if?”

“I referred to myself as the Only so often, others eventually did the same.”

Hmm. Maybe she could borrow his play. Drop the “un” and become Neeka the Wanted. Yes, she liked this idea.

“Let’s talk more about you,” he suggested, so eager she got a little giddy.

“I think we should kiss to help me remember our association.” Yes! Kiss. She needed to taste him.

A mix of longing and regret flashed over his expression, confusing her. Why regret?

With the reflexes of a jungle cat, he flipped her to her back, pinning her to the blanket and staring down at her. “There’s something I must confess.” His gaze dropped to her lips. He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “We are...” His gaze dropped again and lingered.

“Go on,” she rasped, slithering under him. She ran her hands up his spectacular chest, adoring the silken peaks and hollows. “We are still fighting our attraction to each other? In the middle of an intense negotiation about our relationship?”

He flattened his palms near her temples, fiercer by the second. “I don’t know what we are doing.”

“Let me help you figure it out.” Spreading her legs, she contoured her body to his, becoming a cradle for him. With her knees bent at his waist, she rocked her hips and moaned with delight. So good!

His breaths seemed to roughen. He flicked the tip of his tongue over an incisor. “You were sent to kill me with pleasure, admit it.”

“Pleasure. Mmm, yes. Gimme.” Unwilling to wait a second longer, she lifted her head and mashed her lips into his.

As he opened for her, she thrust her tongue past his teeth. Oh! He was hot. An intoxicating inferno. And his taste. A decadent blend of sweet wine and spices. But...

He didn’t kiss her back. Not at first. “Rathbone,” she pleaded.

With a growl she felt in her bones, he met the next thrust of her tongue with one of his own, feeding her the passion she craved. As he claimed her with possessive strokes, he plumped her breasts. She couldn’t think. Fragmented words erupted on repeat inside her head. Yes. More. Please.

Desire proved unrelenting. Hunger more so. They were the only two people in the universe. Neeka and her ravenous beast. A ruthless warrior who acted as if he was devouring his first meal in centuries. She thrilled, overwhelmed with—

He wrenched free without warning, drawing a groan from deep within her.

Panting, he rushed out, “My body will hate me for doing this, but it’s what is best for you. Neeka...carrot... I’m mated.” Infinitely tender, he caressed his fingers over her cheekbone. “I hired you to find Lore’s bones, so I can bring her to life. We ended up in an ice world. You were freezing and needed my body heat to warm.”

“Shh, shh. Give me—” She ceased writhing. Wait. What? Her stomach twisted. Mate, he’d said. He was fated to be with someone else? He wasn’t Neeka’s consort, and he didn’t intend to keep her? Always unwanted.

She gathered her defenses and spat, “Okay, I’m done.”

When he remained in place, silent, she attempted to shove him off. With her wings pinned, she lacked the strength. Unacceptable!

“I will do another count,” she snapped. “If you haven’t moved by the time I finish, you’re dead. One.”

She struck, going for his throat. He didn’t want her? Fine! But he shouldn’t have kissed her as if she held the air he required for survival.

Regret radiated from him as he caught her wrist. Holding tight, he told her, “I wish things were different.”

“Lie!” Why did people always say that? “If you wished things were different, you’d do something different.”

He flinched.

“But that’s okay,” she said, going for a breezy. “I’m not mad. Not about that. You haven’t thanked me for your rescue. You’ve only complained.”

“Thank you?” He sputtered. “Where is mine?”

As if. Leveling her most patronizing mien on him, she said, “Rathbone, you’re alive because I’ve kept you that way. And I don’t need my memories to know that. It’s common sense.”

After a few seconds, he huffed, puffed, and glided to his feet. Neeka exhaled with great relief, not dejection.

Motions jerky, he stuffed his legs into a pair of leathers he ripped from a cord and strapped on combat boots. “We can go home as soon as you to cut metal shards from my body. They prevent me from transporting us.”



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