The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

A grinning Ian appeared mere feet away. Like Roc, he’d removed his helmet, revealing long black hair, light brown skin covered in alevala, and black eyes that looked like stars anchored in an abyss. He stepped to the side and swept out his arm. The concubines appeared in unison.

Roc glared at the scourge before focusing on the women. They were an array of sizes, colors and species, dressed in everything from tank tops and panties to formal gowns. Some of the concubines were in the midst of a conversation, others in the middle of some kind of action. As soon as they realized they’d been flashed—a common occurrence among the Astra—they quieted.

Spotting him, they curtsied and awaited his command.

In a mimic of him, Ian arched a brow. —Do you think your concubine looks like someone we know? A certain bride, perhaps?—

He looked to the elf he’d chosen last year, mere weeks after visiting Harpina for the first time. Tall and slender, with long blond hair, blue eyes and pale skin. Frowning, he said, —I don’t see it.—Taliyah commanded attention. She...was here? He sniffed. Did he smell frostberries?

Was she able to flash?

He leaped to his feet, his hands fisted. Ian caught his aggression and palmed a three-blade. A minute passed in silence. Two. Taliyah never materialized, and his frown deepened.

Roc shifted to the right. Had the fragrance of frostberries grown stronger in this area? It must have; he heated, his body suddenly determined to warm her. But again, the female never appeared.

Had his shirt picked up her scent when she’d rubbed against him?

He scowled and faced his elf...whatever her name was. “For the next thirty days, you aren’t to enter my room. Or approach me. Just stay away entirely.”

Not the least bit bothered, she curtsied, saying, “Yes, Commander. Your every whim is my greatest desire.”

He nodded with irritation. Which irritated him further. All of their so-called conversations flowed in this direction: he spoke, she agreed, and that was that, just the way he liked it. No part of him wished she would call his bluff.

“Just...return them to their quarters,” he instructed Ian.

Ian huffed before sending the females away. “How are you able to ruin my fun so quickly?” he asked before vanishing.

Roc walked to a tall, arching windowpane bordered by stained glass and surveyed Harpina. The palace overlooked a garden maze filled with bushes and statues of past Generals. A meteorite graced the center. With it, he would construct Taliyah’s altar.

Beyond the garden, in the center of the market courtyard, a massive tree bloomed with red flowers, shading every shop.

When he’d first arrived, the streets had brimmed with chatty females going about their day. Now those streets were empty, his men stationed behind the wall. By sunset, patrols would march about town.

The scent of frostberries had faded, he realized with a jolt. Meaning, he didn’t carry the perfume on his clothing. Meaning...what? Taliyah was nearby, watching and listening?

What ability did she wield? Was Taliyah here, casting an illusion of invisibility, as only the strongest of snakeshifters could do? If he could catch her...

Excitement—

—Commander?—

—crashed. Roc sighed. He knew Roux requested an audience. The hunt for Taliyah must wait.

—You may enter.—He glanced over his shoulder, nodding at Roux in greeting when the warlord appeared. A beast with pale hair, golden skin, and yellow eyes with striations of pink, gray and brown—until his temper sparked and red took over. He gripped a kneeling wolfshifter by the hair. The beast held on to Roux’s wrists with razor-sharp claws, but he didn’t fight.

Well. The wolf had figured out the strategy to possibly surviving an encounter with the Astra: remain calm.

Roux muttered something about seeing and not seeing a woman, his gaze darting for a moment. Though he appeared somewhat crazed, he was the most intelligent Astra. Too intelligent. The way his brilliant mind worked often staggered everyone else.

Once he’d figured out whatever mystery currently plagued him, the muttering would cease.

Unlike other Astra, Roux didn’t possess moving alevala outside of battle. In fact, his alevala did the opposite. For some reason, the images moved only during battle.

Face-to-face, Roc preferred speech to thought. “You’ve brought me a present?”

“Yes.”

Roux must have caught the shifter attempting to free the harpies from their cell.

Wolves were a dangerous species. The essence of their beasts rose from their bodies, like a demon exiting a host, the thick shadow transposing itself over their features.

“He’s a consort, I’m sure.” Roc faced the window again, peering out. Perhaps he’d keep this world after Taliyah’s death. “Put him with—”

“What do you plan to do with the harpies?” the shifter demanded, cutting Roc off. “Tell me! They are—”

Without turning his head a second time, Roc palmed the small crossbow sheathed at his side, extended his arm and nailed the male in the center of his throat, severing his vocal cords. Then he turned his head, his body following the new direction at a slower pace.