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)
The same doubts Styx once displayed?
Had Styx spoken true regarding his dealings with Lore? Had Rathbone misjudged her from the beginning, allowing desire to color his thoughts? Not just any desire, but a unique obsession a goddess of her class would have no trouble manufacturing, thereby convincing a young warrior he’d found his one and only...
But had he?
His gaze returned to Neeka.
“Well?” she prompted, shifting from one sexy foot to the other.
“Well what?” he demanded with more force than he’d intended. If Lore had tricked and betrayed him, rousing false desire inside him...
He ground his molars.
“Do you want the Astra to acquire a piece of your precious Lore, or are you the Wrath of Blood and Bones? Superhero name pending. Because that’s what will happen if we’re late for our very important date.”
The mátia narrowed. “What date?”
She cringed, as if she felt sorry for him. “Lookit. I’ve been probing into the depths of my subconscious. Information hidden in shadows, visions I’d forgotten, tidbits left by the Hall of Secrets, that sort of thing. There’s no easy way to tell you this, so Imma just blurt it.” She paused to draw in a deep breath. Held it.
And held it.
“Neeka,” he growled.
“Give me a second to center. Geez,” she said, exhaling with force. “Okay, here goes.” She drew in another deep breath, closed her eyes, and lobbed multiple balls of information at him. “Centuries ago, Hera hired a fae to join your stable, conceive her grandson, and bail on you. Congrats! It’s a boy, and he somehow stopped aging at sixteen. His name is Maximus, and he’s being kept in a world called Aweland. He’s currently in possession of a bone, and we’re going to steal it during his birthday party. You ready?”
20
“Do not stroke the ruby choker,” Neeka muttered. “Do not.” She repeated the critically important mantra inside her mind again and again, the words a lifeline to her sanity.
Head high, she ventured toward a Queen of Hearts–esque garden behind a castle straight out of every fairy tale ever written. But dang it, the choker snaking around her neck seared her skin—because the choker was Rathbone!
That’s right. She wore the King of Agonies. He currently pressed against her thumping pulse.
How she wished she could see his face and gauge his thoughts. In the seconds after she’d made her big announcement about his (alleged) son, he’d masked his features and said, “Wear me.” Then he’d shifted into the glorious piece of jewelry she’d coveted with every fiber of her being. As soon as she’d donned him, he’d teleported her to Aweland.
Clearly, he’d been here before, as he’d been to all the other realms they’d visited. Without a key, there was no other way to flash directly into a realm.
Dang it! She was stroking the choker. Besides being agonizingly aware of the sexy male strapped to her neck, she had to deal with a plague of mini-visions. For some reason, she kept seeing flashes of a younger Rathbone battling the fierce King Styx to save a sobbing Lore from a whipping.
The ferocity behind Red’s every blow...he’d been a warrior possessed. Until he’d absconded with the goddess and reached safety. Then he’d become a besotted suitor, working hard to impress her. Presenting her with fresh flowers and jewelry. Massaging her, as he’d done for Neeka.
Her ribs drew tight. Knowing what she knew about his mother, she wondered if he’d attempted to buy the goddess’s affections. Perhaps Neeka’s mind showed her these tidbits as an alert. A this is what you’re up against kind of thing.
Should she finally use the elixir?
She’d filled a fresh vial and strapped the little glass container to her garter. But every time she’d considered advancing her plan, she’d hesitated. What if Rathbone was her consort and she ruined everything?
She hated to admit it but...he could be. Her awareness of him continued to sharpen. Her desire to talk to him, to kiss him and touch him and ride him and cuddle him and eat carrots off his chest only ever magnified. Part of her longed to curl up in his embrace and let the rest of the world disappear while she napped. To pretend, just for a little while, that there were no obstacles in their way.
“Why don’t you shift into my twin?” she muttered to him. “Being me on a molecular level has gotta be better than driving me to distraction during such an important mission. For goodness sake, Red, we’re about to meet with your potential son.”
The choker vibrated, sending an avalanche of tingles across her nerve endings. Her belly fluttered, and her knees quaked. Delicious.
Gah! How was she supposed to function like this? “Is that your way of telling me there’s nothing better than driving me to distraction?”
The next vibration wrenched a moan from her.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she muttered. “Now be a good boy. It’s showtime.”