The Warlord by Gena Showalter (free ebook reader for pc .txt) 📕

vanished, survival instincts kicking in. Taliyah fit shaky hands around the hilt and pushed outward. Can’t breathe. Need to breathe.

“May your loss serve as our gain.” Without a shred of mercy, Aunt Tamera thrust the demonglass next to the fireiron.

More searing pain. More blood gurgled from the corners of her mouth. Weakness invaded her limbs, and tears welled.

“May your return serve as an eternal reminder. Death has lost its sting, the grave has lost its power.” Blythe slammed the wooden stake beneath the other two weapons.

The agony! Excruciating and unending. A loud ring erupted in Taliyah’s ears. So cold. Dizzy. What little remained of her strength abandoned her in a rush. Already hobbled, she fell.

Impact rattled her brain against her skull—a skull quickly wetted by an outpour of her blood. All she could do was peer up at a spinning night sky. Dazzling stars beckoned her closer...

She fought. She fought hard, because she couldn’t not fight. Warped by the blades, her destroyed heart raced. Slowed. Until...

It stopped.

Taliyah wheezed a final exhalation, every muscle in her body going lax. Maybe she died, maybe she didn’t. A part of her remained aware, but without time. She floated in a sea of darkness, the barest pinpricks of light blinking here and there, reminding her of the stars. All pain faded.

As the sea carried her farther and farther away, panic set in. She wished to return to her family. She would return. Taliyah renewed her struggles, kicking and clawing.

Blink. Blink. Fighting harder. Lights flared faster and faster, whizzing together. Harder still. Finally—

Taliyah gasped, her eyelids popping open.

Her mother hovered over her, a calculated smile blooming. “Congratulations, daughter. You are officially the second royal harpy-phantom in existence. You’ll do great things or you’ll die again trying.”

2

Realm of the Forgotten, a semisecret dimension

Thousands of years later

A bare-chested Taliyah perched on her knees—willingly. A first-aid kit waited at her side. Her best friend had just pierced her nipple, claiming, “It’s your lucky piercing. It’s going to save your life, I swear!”

Since her best friend Neeka was a harpy-oracle who’d never given a wrong prediction, Taliyah believed her.

They occupied a spacious suite in a luxurious fortress. A master bedroom with glowing crystals that dripped from the ceiling and a beast-skin rug that stretched before a crackling hearth. Furniture made from the bones of wicked men acted as a daily reminder to enjoy the little things. Family created the artwork, an eclectic mix of so-called awards Taliyah’s sisters had given her and masterpieces her only niece had painted.

“A pro hack for permanently scarring an immortal. Make sure the victim—er, recipient—isn’t a screamer.” Neeka the Unwanted stood near the crackling hearth, waiting for the branding iron to finish heating. Firelight cocooned her, illuminating curly black hair, gorgeous brown skin and whiskey-brown eyes.

The beauty received the less-than-stellar Unwanted sobriquet centuries ago from her wretch of a mother. Neeks had barely learned to walk before an enemy raided their village and stabbed her in both ears. Too young to heal from her wounds, she remained without hearing for the rest of her immortal life.

“Why do I need this scar, anyway?” Taliyah asked. “Is it going to save my life, too?”

“Something like that.”

Well, it couldn’t hurt any less than her stars.

After graduating from harpy training camp, Taliyah had issued a formal pledge to compete for the title of General. At that time, a mystic had imbued her left wrist with ten invisible stars. From then on, a star had darkened every time she’d successfully completed a task. The agony of a star’s emergence compared to nothing. A way to weed out weaklings, she supposed.

“By the way, thanks for not killing me when I learned your secret heritage,” Neeka said.

Yeah. Her friend uncovered the truth. But then, Neeka’s father was an oracle who specialized in secrets and mysteries, so of course the girl had figured it out. Kill her for it? No. “Sometimes I want to shout the news to the world. My résumé of abilities has a wow factor, and people have a right to know.”

As a snakeshifter, she mesmerized and cast illusions. A skill she used to spy on any enemy at any time; it also explained her phantom ability to dematerialize, becoming as insubstantial as mist. A few drops of her toxic blood could slay many immortal species and most humans. When she wasn’t wearing an enchanted ring—which was never—she heard phantoms through a mystical connection. Or rather, she heard their screams. The ring saved her sanity.

“You know what you need?” Neeka asked, a familiar glint lighting her eyes.

“No! Do not tell me I’ve got to have—”

“A commemorative piece of jewelry to mark this auspicious occasion!”

She groaned. Being cooped up and bored, Neeka liked to pass time making jewelry. So many beads. The rhinestones. Oh, the rhinestones. Ten of the most gaudy necklaces dangled from her friend’s neck. An array of bracelets climbed up both forearms. Rings decorated every finger.

“No more jewelry.” Please!

“Fine. Be that way,” the girl huffed. “But you’re going to wish you owned a one-of-a-kind piece featuring real, genuine pearls.”

“A redundant assurance doesn’t make it true. Those so-called pearls are teeth you pulled out of a phoenix warrior’s mouth.”

“Only if you lack imagination.” Neeka leaned over to inspect the branding iron before peering at Taliyah to watch her lips. “Almost ready. Oh, by the way, Hades is tee-icked at you. Well, not yet, but soon. You have no right to use my name, Tal, blah, blah, blah. He started shouting, so I started tuning out.”

Use Hades’s name? For what? They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Months? Whatever. Earlier in the year, she’d challenged him to a test of wills. Spend two months in bed with her. If he convinced her to give up her virginity, she wouldn’t kill him when he bragged about it. If she refused to surrender, he must give her...seduction lessons. Taliyah pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. The lessons were something else Neeka swore she needed as “a matter of