The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

Any moment...

Yes! Taliyah exploded. Without thought, she bit the cord of his neck. The second her fangs pierced his flesh, he roared, jetting hot seed all over her belly. She clung to him through every white-hot lash, pure satisfaction pouring through her.

Let him go? No. Not now, not...ever?

29

Roc reclined in bed with Taliyah longer than he’d intended, loath to leave her. They’d calmed and cleaned up hours ago, and he had things to do. But his mind remained in torment.

Holding her like this, he thought he might prefer to die in her place. If only he had the option!

How could he ever dare to harm this woman?

He loved the feel of her, especially after he’d pleasured her well. Though not as well as he’d wanted. Multiple times, he’d had to remind himself of the blessing, of her dream to become General—of anything but sinking his shaft deep into her sex.

She yawned, and he kissed her temple.

“Go to sleep, Taya,” he said, playing with her hair. She was draped over his chest, boneless and sated. “I’ll keep you safe.” He needed to brief and question his men about the latest battles. They must discuss the stones and what was soon to happen. Even still, Roc stayed put, content.

“Nah. I’m good.” A second yawn nearly cracked her jaw, but still she held her eyes open.

He scoured a hand over his face, but said nothing else on the subject. Harpies only slept around their consorts. He knew that. What he wouldn’t give to be that blessed male.

Could she ever accept him as such?

What have you done to earn such a position?

What could he do? He was a man tugged in two different directions. Duty versus duty. Love for his men versus...whatever he felt for his wife. Adoration? Definitely obsession. He couldn’t get enough of the woman. But the duality of his desires left him fumbling, as evidenced by his torment. No longer could he rely on a once-prized possession: his resolve.

The events of the day had scrambled his thoughts. Nothing made sense anymore. Not his past. Not his present. Not his future. He owed protection and provision to his soldiers, but he also owed protection and provision to Taliyah. He had no desire to give her up in twenty-five days. Or ever. Could he even manage such a feat?

Guilt and shame collided as he recalled the terrible things he’d done and said to her only yesterday. The terrible things he’d done and said to Solar, all those centuries ago.

Solar had hungered for his siren bride with the same intensity Roc now hungered for his snarpy, yet Roc had—

“Shhh, shhh.” Taliyah stroked his chest. “Everything will be all right.”

He jolted, shaking the entire bed. Soothed by her words, her tone and her touch, he relaxed.

If they weren’t going to sleep, they might as well chat to keep him out of his head. “Do you know the other phantom-harpy?” he asked softly, not wanting to rouse her defenses.

Strain emanated from her. A long while passed before she nodded, shocking him. “I do. She’s my cousin. And my sister. Long story. But she isn’t controlled by Erebus, either, so don’t even think about reneging the orders to your men and harming her.”

Such loyalty. His admiration for it, for her, only expanded. Could she ever feel so fervently for Roc? He longed for such a time.

The fact that she’d shared so much with him, well, Taliyah must be as confused as Roc. The realization helped settle him further. At least he wasn’t in this alone. “Trust me, Taya. I’ve learned my lesson. I have come to believe there are two kinds of phantoms. I won’t harm those like you, unless attacked. You have my word.”

Her sigh fanned over the ridges of his stomach. “There you go again, saying sweet, sexy things.”

“You’ve searched for her with the crystal?”

“Yes, but I haven’t found her.”

“If she exited Roux, as he suspects, she didn’t do it here. We would have found her already.”

“I know, but I must complete my search. She has a daughter, and she wouldn’t leave the girl behind. And for all we know, there are other harpy-phantoms I know nothing about. Although...”

“What? You can ask me anything.”

“What if Blythe hasn’t...moved out?”

He stroked his beard, pensive. “It isn’t probable. If she’s as indomitable as you, however, it’s possible. Before we go poking around in Roux’s head, let’s scour the entire palace and market. If she’s sleeping in the duplicate, we’ll find her.”

A pause. An inhalation. “Okay, yes. You can help me with my search.”

Roc felt his chest swell with pride. She was choosing to trust him with more. I must be her consort.

If ever she accepted him as such, he would...what? Promise not to slay her when the time came?

Agitated, he scoured his free hand down his face.

She petted his chest the way he loved. “You need to speak with your men about what happened in the garden, yeah?”