The Immortal (Rise of the Warlords 2)

Change. Growth. Power.

Maybe the harpy influenced the outcome of Halo’s task, maybe she didn’t. But she absolutely played a role in it. When they’d stood in the foyer and she’d fondled his chest in front of his brothers, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world, Halo had felt as though she played a role in his everything.

Inhale. Exhale. The Commander had also mentioned stardust. For Roc, the powder hadn’t come until he’d gotten Taliyah into bed.

“Okay, you’ve pretended to ignore me long enough.” Ophelia popped to her feet and anchored her hands to her hips. “Forget your no questions from a subordinate rule. I’m asking stuff and you’re answering. How does an Astra recognize his gravita?”

Oh, yes. She suspected their connection. “No stardust, no gravita.”

“The powdery substance produced by your hands, right, safe only for the woman wearing it?”

“Correct.” He offered no more.

She persisted. “The stardust is that important to a pairing?”

“Yes.” Her sweet scent hit him anew. Control. He leaned back in the antique chair, increasing the distance between them, and regarded her warily. “Sit.” He motioned to her seat, the chair at his right. “You may ask me about anything else. Just know I’ll be asking you anything in return.”

“An equal exchange? Yes. Agreed.” Chin lifted, she sauntered around him and claimed the chair at his left.

He very nearly rolled his eyes. “You asked if this will be an equal exchange. My answer is yes,” he said, and she groaned a weak protest. “Now it’s my turn to ask and your turn to respond.” There was something he must know. “What happened to you before yesterday’s battle?”

Shifting repeatedly, cheeks pallid, she told him, “I died. What more do you wish to know? No! Don’t answer that. It wasn’t an official question.”

He rubbed his stinging chest. Failed her. Had she lingered? Suffered?

“Here’s my first official question,” she said. “What is your plan for me? Like, what are you expecting from me, exactly? What do you want?” She traced a blunt nail over the spines of his books, mouthing the titles. At How to Be an Unmurdered Consort, she arched a brow at him.

He held her gaze, unflinching. “I will answer each. My plan is to keep you safe while I successfully complete my task. I’m expecting you to not be foolish enough to make me choose between your safety and my victory. To always tell me the truth and to never disobey my commands.” Hot blood rushed to his groin. Ophelia, eagerly doing everything I desire... He gripped the arms of his chair. “Until the task ends, I want what I want when I want it for reasons. You need to know no more than that.”

As she balked, Halo canted his head and arched a brow in challenge. Something more to say, harpy?

Bristling, she told him, “I get it. I’m worthy of your protection only as long as I’m your puppet. Well, how about this for a little honesty? I have a task of my own to complete, and more and more I’m thinking you aren’t worthy of my protection.”

“And what task is that?”

She lifted her nose. “I told you already. I will qualify for General, or I will die again trying.”

He flinched at the reminder of her death. Negate her claim, however? No. Halo could trust only two things. His brothers, and a harpy’s loyalty to other harpies. Especially those contending for the title of General. They put their people first, always.

Right now, those people happened to need the Astra. When it counted, Ophelia would do whatever Halo commanded, if only to safeguard harpykind.

“You owe me another answer. Two, actually.” He flicked his tongue over an incisor, thinking. “Why are you known as the Flunk Out?”

She made a crude motion with her hand. “Just had to go there, didn’t you? Whatever. Here’s the crux of it. At the age of fifteen, I vowed to stay a virgin and fight for the title of General. At eighteen, I believed I fell in love and slept with my boyfriend. No virginity, no hat in the General’s ring. I thought I would be okay with that because I’d have my male. But the boy who’d spent months winning me bailed the next day. At twenty, I decided to try again with someone better. Only, he wasn’t better. He bailed the next day, too. I wasn’t worth a war with my sister.”

A defensive inflection couldn’t hide her hurt—a noticeable chink in her armor. A chink she shouldn’t have. For the two males to have her within their clasp and give her up? The sheer lunacy of it staggered Halo. Her nearness alone inspired a near-constant frisson of pleasure.

She glared at him, daring him to comment on her tale. For once, he had no idea how to respond. Offer a gesture of comfort? But how did one do so? His hands caused pain, not pleasure. Though she had enjoyed his touch earlier. Very much.