The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

The sight gutted Taliyah, and she curled her hands into fists. Along with everything else, Roc would pay for this.

The women huddled together, whispering. An Astra stood sentry nearby. The guy with long white hair. Striations of pink, gray and brown ringed his yellow irises. He wore a T-shirt and leather pants, like Roc, and he didn’t move in the slightest bit. But his gaze darted constantly, as if he saw things that weren’t there. He mumbled his words. “There and not there. When? When did they vanish?”

She tuned out the warrior and focused on the harpies. Hey! They were talking about her.

“Is Tal already dead, do you think?” someone asked.

“You heard yesterday’s fight, right? Girl struck and missed, and boy retaliated. We’re on our own now. As the warrior with the most stars, I’m in charge.”

That voice Taliyah recognized. Mara had best watch herself, or she’d get hers, too.

The Astra didn’t rebuke Taliyah as she closed the distance, but he did shut up and stare when she stopped in front of him. Embers of red flared and died in those amazing irises.

“I’m here to check out the one-room abode with natural flooring and guaranteed security. Gotta say, the curb appeal isn’t what I was hoping.”

“Why am I happy to see you?” he demanded.

“Because I’m awesome?”

“Why, why, why?” His gaze slid away from her. “Why don’t I remember? She was there. They were there, then nothing. What don’t I remember?” He resumed his mumbling, then his pacing, seeming to forget her presence altogether.

A possible weak link in the Astra chain? Could he be used against Roc?

Gasps sounded from the harpies. “Taliyah!”

“Our MVP! Never doubted you’d survive.”

She darted past the jailer, hurrying to the bars to greet the girls. Grins and cheers abounded. No one bore any wounds or bruises to signal physical abuse. They wore plenty of dirt, though.

“Is their leader dead yet?” Mara asked, her superior tone suggesting she’d have this thing won and celebrated by now.

Of course she went there. “Trust me, I’m working on it. I plugged the Commander full of bullets and arrows, and he barely felt it. He caught my sword blade and all but yawned.”

“Bed him, his men, or a vibrator for all we care,” Mara belted out. “We all heard him. He needs a virgin. No hymen, no sacrifice.”

The exact plan Roc claimed every bride had endeavored to enact at some point. “Aw. Is Mara afraid of a wittle competition?”

“Aw. Is Taliyah afraid she’ll fail to get it and quit it? The Commander didn’t seem impressed with your goods and services.”

“Only because you weren’t looking low enough,” she snapped. The woman had landed a direct hit. What if she...couldn’t?

If these girls ever found out about the chastity belt, they’d tease her for life.

“Wait. Are you blushing?” Mara gasped.

“Guys! T-bone is blushing!”

Speculations about the reason ebbed and flowed, blending together.

“I’ll kill him, okay?” How? How? “Don’t worry. I just came to tell you guys the rest of our people are being kept in a duplicate realm. Some or all of the Astra have a key. We need one.”

“On it!”

“We’ve got this!”

“I’ll nab Officer Mumbles’s key, guaranteed. I think I’ll take his heart while I’m at it. Everyone needs a keepsake.”

Harpies were the best. “I’ll send food you can steal from Mumbles,” she said, then pivoted on her heel and stalked past the Astra. He made no comment.

Where was her dear, darling husband right this second? What was he doing? Should she track him down to make another play for his head or wait?

Wait and stick with her original plan, she decided. Return to the Realm of the Forgotten while he slept, feed, strengthen and clear her head. Tomorrow, she’d launch her next attack.

For the rest of the day, she’d...what? Try to learn more about him, to unearth another weakness? Challenge him in a sexual way to keep him off-kilter?

You are not my gravita.

Gah! What did that even mean?

When Taliyah entered the master suite, she noticed a constant, rhythmic clink. The noise came through the private balcony, so she padded over. Open doors allowed a soft, rose-scented breeze to waft past the dancing curtains. At the railing, she scanned the royal gardens.

Oh, wow. Okay. A shirtless Roc sat before a massive chunk of black rock, his big, tattooed body bathed in sunlight. Pieces of the rock fell as he chiseled. Sweat trickled down ridge after glorious ridge of flexing muscles. Fury and determination tinged his expression.

Beautiful monster. Powerful beyond imagining. Dangerous in ways she’d never thought possible. In a single day, he’d trained her body to react to his, the mere sight of him enough to fill her with heat.

For some reason, her mind replayed the way he’d tossed and turned and shouted as he’d slept. A fearless warrior, plagued by bad dreams.

Ugh. Was sexy, stoic and secretly tormented her new type?