The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1) - Page 56

She went rigid before struggling against him. “I really should go, Roc.”

Why did she keep doing this? “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You just...you smell so good.” With a moan, she softened. She ran her nose up his neck, just as he’d done to her, gyrating against him.

As he cupped her backside, she wrenched from his arms and sat up—not before he caught a glimpse of her face.

Black lines branched from her eyes.

19

“I’m leaving, and that’s that.” Taliyah raced around the room, gathering weapons. “Don’t try to stop me.”

She’d known she’d played with fire. Hunger clawed at her. She’d gone two days without a meal or even a snack. In the past few hours, she’d met and threatened her father, experienced incredible pleasure at the hands of the husband planning to murder her, received an official dismissal from said husband immediately afterward, showered and cursed his name, then enjoyed a royal welcome back into the strong embrace she’d craved more than she would ever admit.

She scowled, angry with herself, with Roc. With Erebus. Her emotions had been through the wringer, squeezed within an inch of their lives.

What she and Roc had done... The satisfaction she’d tasted in his arms warred with the uncertainty. She felt as though she’d finally stored the mysterious parts of her life in the same box. A puzzle she had only to complete in order to make herself whole.

What was she to do about this man? What was she to do about her starvation? Ignoring her hunger pains ceased being an option.

Five days was the longest she’d ever gone without a proper meal. At the time, she’d been trapped in a desolate realm devoid of life. By day four, she’d felt as if she were dying. By day five, she’d wanted to die.

No reason to panic. This was only day two, and she already had a banquet lined up. All will be well.

With daggers in hand, she rushed to the door. Roc appeared directly in front of her, blocking the exit. Too late to slow. She slammed into him. Only the hard clasp of his hand on her nape prevented her from ricocheting. He used his free hand to disarm her and lock her body against his.

The fingers on her nape inclined her face to the light.

She kept her lids low. Looking at him, even for a moment, made her mouth water and her stomach cramp. The hungrier she became, the more his skin glowed. The louder she heard his soul call. Soon, she’d see and hear nothing else. Remembering she couldn’t consume him, that he possessed some kind of mystical block—impossible. She would attack.

Even now, she yearned to attack. Standing in place required great effort. “If you’re wanting another go at me, you’ll have to wait.” She began to pant as though she jogged uphill. “The candy store is currently closed.”

“What I want is the key to the Realm of the Forgotten.” He wrapped his fingers around the little dagger necklace and yanked the cord from her neck. As he traced his thumb over the metal, he frowned. “This leads to Harpina.”

He could tell by touch alone? “Why didn’t you touch the key while we were making out?” Because he’d wanted to get her into bed, and he’d seized any excuse.

“Give me the other key, Taliyah.”

“I can’t.” If he fought her on this, she’d...what? In this state, what could she do?

He examined her before forcibly turning her around and sweeping her hair over her shoulder, baring her back to him. “The hourglass tattoo.”

How did he even know that? “Remove it, and I’ll—”

“What?” He traced a fingertip along the image, unerringly gentle. Shivers rained through her. “What can you do to me?”

She didn’t know! “Are we done here?” she demanded with enough vim and vigor to terrify anyone else.

With an unnecessary abundance of force, he turned her to face him. He actually recoiled.

“Stop manhandling me, and get out of my way,” she said, meeting his gaze. She gasped. Had she ever spied so much malice? Because of a tattoo key?

Cool air bit her bare skin, rousing apprehension. Before this, she’d never experienced a chill in his presence. Why did he no longer give off heat?

“Black lines branch from your eyes, Taliyah. Why?”

The question lashed like a whip, and her cramping stomach dropped. He suspected she was a phantom.

Drawing on centuries of battle calm, she delivered a flat statement. “I’m part snakeshifter, Roc. Why else?” If he knew little about the snakes, he might believe her very truthful claim.

“Snakeshifters do not develop black lines around their eyes. Try again.”

Okay, so he knew about snakes, but he might not know about Erebus. “You’re right. But how many snakeshifter–harpy hybrids do you know?” Such a combination was a rarity, snakes a difficult species to infiltrate. Their suspicion of others provided a tough hurdle for any female to jump.

Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy
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