The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

Were her wings fluttering? He wondered how they’d feel against his flesh. He barely stopped himself from running a hand up the ridges of her spine. “At some point, you will beg me to take your virginity. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’ll beg you for nothing!” she spit.

That was her only point of contention? “Your attempt to seduce me will only waste your time and erase my respect.” Brides would do anything to disqualify themselves from the sacrifice. But then, they didn’t know the truth.

Roc didn’t actually need a virgin. He preferred them.

Sacrifice his bride, and he and his men received a mystical blessing to win every battle they waged for the next five centuries. Sacrifice his virgin bride, and they received a mystical blessing plus a powerful weapon. Of course, he couldn’t claim either prize until the other Astra Planeta had successfully completed their own tasks. Everything from finding lost cities to crafting powerful weapons.

Neither Roc nor his men required the blessing. If they fought, they won. Period. Unless they were cursed.

He straightened his shoulders. If a single Astra botched his task, a curse came automatically upon the entire group, ensuring they lost every battle they waged.

“Right,” Taliyah said with a nod, exchanging fury for wry humor. “Because boning the man who injured and imprisoned my people is super high on my bucket list.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you of these words the first time you crawl into my bed.”

“Darling, if you find me in your bed, you’ll be too busy dying to remind me of anything.”

Did she ever back down?

“I will resist you,” he continued, “because I have a higher purpose.” Long ago, the god Chaos created his own personal army. Demigods with the potential to ascend, becoming gods themselves. To do this, he’d purchased twenty children from his fellow Greeks. Young boys he’d raised with a stern hand, teaching the ways of the ancients. Might makes right.

Roc and his biological brother were part of the twenty, and at first, they had despised Chaos. The male had seemed to enjoy the pain he’d inflicted upon each of his charges...

To be remade, you must first be broken. To shed weakness, you must defeat the pain you fear. I’ll break you in ways you can’t imagine and hurt you in ways you’ll never forget. For centuries to come, you’ll curse my name, but when you look back, you’ll thank me for it all. You’ll be stronger than you ever dreamed possible.

Chaos had kept his word. Under his tutelage, Roc had strengthened in a thousand different ways. He was still strengthening. Now he protected the people under his charge by any means necessary.

No one took what belonged to him.

Soon, he would ascend for the second time, reaching new heights. Becoming a god far greater than the parents who’d sold him. Far greater than the enemy he loathed with every fiber of his being.

Nothing would stop him from achieving this goal. Nothing.

“Hey, Alaroc?” Taliyah batted her long lashes at him as she nibbled on her plump bottom lip. “Are you sure I’ll be wasting my time trying to seduce you? Absolutely, positively sure your higher purpose matters more than your desires?”

He laughed and patted the top of her head. “I’m sure, harpy.” He harbored zero uncertainties.

In the beginning, Celestian “Ian” Eosphorus, had been the Commander. Roc’s brother. But Ian had failed to sacrifice his first bride, bringing the curse upon the Astra. They’d lost two men the first hour and had to make a retreat. A humiliation seared into his memory.

They’d spent the next five hundred years in hibernation. Upon awakening, they’d discovered Ian’s demotion, another warrior given the Commander’s helmet. A ruthless barbarian named Solar.

Solar, once the leader responsible for wedding a virgin bride. Time after time, he’d done it without complaint. Then he’d met the siren. He’d made the mistake of taking her to bed and everything changed.

“She is my gravita,” he’d said. The female who spun his world out of orbit. Who both rushed and slowed time for him, her pull too strong to deny. “I produce stardust for her.”

Stardust was a sparkling powder produced in an Astra’s palms, toxic to all but its creator and his gravita.

In the end, Solar had spared his bride, exactly as Ian had.

Both males lost their females, anyway. On the very same day as the sacrifice. Solar had died minutes after his bride, leaving the remaining Astra to fight on without him.

Bitterness coated Roc’s tongue, old fury flaring. What leader had the right to choose a bride over his men?

“Yes, but are you sure you’re sure?” Taliyah asked. “Like, no doubts or anything?”

How much plainer could he make this? “In thirty days, you will die a virgin.”

“Yes, yes. That’s very believable. Except...” She motioned to his groin. “One of us has a raging hard-on, and it isn’t me. I left mine at home.”