The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

Halo’s anger dissipated, replaced by bafflement. “You want her that badly?”

If the way inside Taliyah Skyhawk was five hundred years as this man’s errand boy, so be it. A small price to pay. “I do.”

His second-in-command assumed a battle stance. “In twenty-five days, you’ll do your duty? You won’t hesitate to slay the phantom?”

He...couldn’t answer that question honestly. Because he didn’t know. What he could promise? “I will always do what I believe is right.”

“A phantom is worth this?” Silver asked.

“This one is.” Taliyah was so much more everything than Roc had ever expected for his gravita. Matching wits with her wily mind was a drug. Her unshakable will astounded and humbled him. He was never not aware of her scent and taste. Every time he warmed her, he thrilled. The mere thought of her ignited a fire that burned through his control in record time.

She had done the impossible. She had brought the most powerful Commander in existence to his knees. And he was willing to stay there.

“So I ask you,” Roc said. “Who agrees?”

* * *

Taliyah gave herself a grand total of two minutes to remember the ferocity Roc had displayed when he’d wanted inside her...to lament and relish her cracking resistance to him.

Would she have the strength to refuse his advances a second time? Part of her still tingled from his touch, reckless for more.

Only part? She laughed without humor.

She’d have to be more careful going forward. Right? She shouldn’t give her virginity to him, ruining her dreams. But...why couldn’t a General have a man? Why, why, why?

When the two minutes ended, she booted the Astra from her head. War was afoot, and she must be at her best. So, she would train as she had always trained. Lots of pain, lots of gain.

Abandoning the warmth of the bed and the haze of Roc’s scent at long last, she bounded to her room to dress in battle gear, boots and weapons. From now on, she would practice without the ring a minimum of three times a day. She’d start with a minute. Quick and easy. A confidence booster.

Decided, she grabbed the stopwatch she’d found in a nightstand. It belonged to General Nissa’s sister, who’d stayed in the room before Taliyah.

Once she discovered a way to save everyone, she might turn the room into a gym.

With the thought, supposition became plans etched in stone. Yeah, she was going to do it. Not the gym, but the saving. She would save everyone. Find a way to be with Roc, salvaging their relationship for however long. Circumvent the curse over him and his men. Free her harpies. Avoid hibernation.

The tasks mounted, the stakes critical. But when had she ever shrunk from a challenge? There would be no more weddings. No more sacrifices. No more blessings or curses. There was a way; there was always a way. You just had to find it.

As Taliyah moved to a spot clear of furniture, her stomach churned. Inhale. Exhale. A familiar pep talk rang inside her head. The one she’d chanted every day at harpy camp, as she’d learned to kill her foes more efficiently.

She glanced down at the ring and gulped. Do it. Do it now. What are you waiting for, Terror? Do it! Dooo it.

Taliyah did it. She activated the stopwatch...and removed the ring. Immediately the screams tore through her ears at full volume. Pain engulfed her, so much pain. Excruciating. All-consuming. Warmth poured from her eyes. Her vision blurred.

A minute might’ve been too ambitious. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears, the ring slipping from her grip. “No!” Taliyah dropped to her knees and blindly patted the floor. “Make it stop, make it stop!”

Where was the ring? Where? No, no, no. A scream barreled up, but she swallowed it. If she screamed, Roc could come. If Roc came, training would end. Something cold grazed her fingers. There! She snatched it up and, with a trembling grip, shoved the band into place.

Silence arrived, and she sagged against the floor, blindly patting for the stopwatch. Thirty-three seconds.

Tears of frustration gathered. Thirty-three might as well be thirty, and thirty might as well be zero. Not good enough!

She banged her fist into the floor. Why did she hear those screams? Why didn’t Blythe? Where did the screams even come from? Every phantom in every world, as she’d always imagined?

With a screech, she sat upright. Never accept a picture of defeat.

Taliyah reset the timer. She hadn’t lied to Roc. The phantoms had worked her over today. She’d stood no chance against them. An intolerable outcome, since she would be fighting many other phantoms soon. Probably even Erebus himself. So, she would remove the ring once more—and go two minutes.

She climbed to unsteady legs and jutted her chin. The wife of the Astra Commander was the future harpy General. Two titles without equal. She would do this.