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

accept a picture of defeat for the first time in her life, when the stakes had never been higher?

“Hey, Roc?” she asked with a sweet tone.

He groaned.

“Did I forget to mention it’s Topless Tuesday?” She wiggled out of the shirt and tossed it in his direction.

He caught the garment with ease. As he stared at her, hard, she lay on the flat surface of the meteorite, stretching out.

“Ah. Much better.”

“Taliyah...”

“What? I’m developing my wing-pinner tan line. A constant reminder to turn you down when I turn you on.”

Did a muscle jump under his eye? “Put the shirt on before you burn.” He tossed the garment back to her.

Taliyah caught it, smiled and threw the stupid thing over the other side of the meteorite. “The shirt stays off. It’s a million degrees out here and someone conveniently forgot to give his precious captive a bra. So, I think we both know this is a sorry-not-sorry situation for you. Complain one more time, and the pants go, too.”

He unleashed a series of caveman-style grunts, but he said nothing else.

“Tell me more about the blessing, and I’ll behave,” she said. “But only as long as you’re talking. Just so we’re clear.”

She expected another refusal. Instead, he told her, “After the Astra ascended the first time, one after the other, we had a choice. Remain as we were, never gaining new power, or enter a door to great suffering and greater heights.”

“A literal door?”

“Yes. It appeared before us. We don’t know who made it, how or why, but it wasn’t Chaos. When we stepped through, we entered a world of darkness. We fought our way free, each killing a monster along the way. That kill decided our original rank, determining our helmets as well as our blessing task. Our rank has changed many times, depending on our performance during our battles and our tasks. Every five hundred years, we must repeat our specific task, in order of our rank, whatever it is. If we succeed, one after the other, we receive the blessing. We win every battle we fight. If even one of us fails, we’re all cursed to lose every battle.”

That was a crap ton of pressure for each warlord to carry. “How does Erebus fit in?”

“We’d been at war with him for centuries already. He ascended before us, and yes, he entered the door first. We couldn’t allow him to gain new power while remaining stagnant ourselves. As soon as we received our ranks, we found ourselves bound to him through the blessing and curse. He fights to complete his task—stopping us.”

Ohhh. No wonder Roc remained confident in his ability to resist the ultimate temptation. No wonder he’d kept that tidbit hush-hush.

Why tell her now?

The answer marched itself into her head, and she gasped. “You’re reinforcing your first warning to me, aren’t you? Even though you’re sexual with me, something you’ve never been with another bride, you’ll kill me because I’m a phantom. That’s almost sweet of you. Know what would be sweeter? Saving everyone.”

He flinched. “You think we didn’t try in the beginning?”

What would she do if the situation were reversed and she fought to protect her sisters and all of harpykind?

An easy question to answer, since she actually did fight to save all of harpykind. She would do whatever proved necessary.

“You’ve never wanted to make yourself the sacrifice, sparing your bride?” she asked.

“I can’t. Our first Commander attempted that.” His voice tightened. “The blade crumbled before ever making contact with him.”

“So I can end you with a blade. Good to know.”

He did the Astra equivalent of an eye roll—he got back to work. Chiseling once more, never glancing up.

“What else have you attempted?” she asked.

“Bargaining. Magic. Vows. There is nothing we haven’t tried.” He exhaled with force. “I wish there was a way.”

Well, that was a huge first step. Definite progress. Would it help her in the end?

“What is the Commander of the Astra going to do after he ascends again?”

He blinked, pausing. “Enjoy peace. Start a...real family.”

Her claws sharpened with...jealousy? Gross! She flinched. “You want peace, and you’re attracted to bloodthirsty females? Explain that.”

“A man can’t have complicated, dueling desires?”

He could, yes, but she thought Roc’s motivations delved deeper. “Maybe you admire strength rather than bloodthirstiness. A strong woman won’t die easily. You won’t ever have to worry about losing her.”

He tensed but said nothing else. Because he didn’t relish a future without his gravita, even if that gravita was a phantom?

A sudden crack of thunder boomed, shaking the garden. Frowning, she pressed the side of her hand to her forehead, shading her eyes, and scanned the area. A storm approached from the north, dark clouds sweeping across the sunny sky. Would Roc work through the rain?

Cold blustered, wind whistling, cooling her off fast. Tossing her shirt had been a really bad idea or a really good one.

“Have you ever lost a blessing and won a curse?” she asked, not yet ready to give up on the conversation.

“Twice, with the two leaders before me. We were forced to hibernate, like the harpies are doing now.”

“How does this forced hibernation work, anyway?” Another crack of thunder boomed, an icier blast of wind speeding past.

“Astra are able to design and craft entire worlds. An original world takes centuries. A duplicate requires mere months. We can control what chemicals and gases are released into the air, where and for how long.”

Another good thing to know. Her thoughts returned to his varying reactions to her, and she decided to switch gears. “If you aren’t letting me out of your sight, why do I need the chastity belt?” Yeah, he’d locked the stupid contraption in place, along with everything else. Another whistling wind stirred up fallen leaves as she asked, “Does someone require help resisting his magnificent phantom?”

His chisel missed the stone and fell to the ground. He bent to pick it up, the storm clouds dancing closer, an electric charge crackling in the air.

If he controlled chemicals and whatnot, he might control weather,