The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

“I wasn’t bragging. I was confessing.”

No, he wasn’t jealous. The siblings clearly shared the same sense of honor and respect. A sense she admired, despite their treatment of her. When it came to her sisters, from Blythe, the oldest, to Gwen, the youngest, Taliyah would willingly, happily suffer for their good.

“Astra—Hey, what’s your name?” Had Roc told her? She couldn’t remember.

“I am Celestian. Ian.”

“Ian. Why does Erebus hate Roc and vice versa? What started their war?” Would he tell her?

“Erebus hates all Astra,” he said, “but whoever is undergoing their blessing task bears the brunt of his focus. The fact that Roc is Commander ensures he is doubly hated.” Ian shrugged. “Erebus first hated us because his father loved us.”

All this effort for jealousy? Maybe in the beginning. Guaranteed his motives changed when the Astra killed his brother. Now he sought revenge. Loss for loss. And oh, wow, what a beautiful glow Ian possessed! Her mouth watered and—

No! Taliyah turned, ending the conversation. No big deal. She had this under control.

“Female,” Ian said, his tone curious, “I have a question.”

“I’m sure you do, but I’m busy thinking.” Of someone tasty... Someone not too many feet from her, perhaps, in the other cage... Mara might make a delicious dessert.

A groan clogged Taliyah’s throat. She’d never eaten one of her own—she wouldn’t. Probably.

Ian asked his question anyway. “How did you draw the stardust from Roc?”

A query she couldn’t resist. “How do you think?”

“I honestly don’t know what to think anymore,” he admitted. “If you knew how precious stardust is...how few of us make it...how much some of us yearn to make it...”

There was an excellent chance Ian considered himself part of the some. “I don’t think you’re ready for the answer, warrior.”

“Tell me.” He stepped forward, gripping the bars, his curiosity seeming to veer into desperation.

If she weren’t on the verge of starvation, she might have retorted, Keep ordering me around. It works so well for your brother. Instead, she sighed, shrugged and told him the truth. “I breathed.”

21

Roc blocked every voice from his head and focused on the realm frequency he’d picked up from Taliyah’s hourglass tattoo.

He needed no key to enter a realm, only a link. Had she lied about the location and the friend she’d supposedly met, as he suspected?

He appeared in the so-called Realm of the Forgotten, halfway expecting an ambush. Instead, he stood at the edge of the world—at the end of a winding road that stretched over a churning body of water, leading to a steep cliff with a massive fortress carved into its side. Above it, the inky sky offered no hint of light, save for the freezing fog curling into dizzying swirls.

It was a sky Roc recognized. Part of an original realm rather than the duplicates he created for war. Original realms took ages to make and always carried the DNA of their maker. The secrets hidden in their heart of hearts.

This one had been created by Erebus.

Roc’s hands curled into fists. Whatever world the god birthed, he ruined with unsustainable weather patterns and that swirling fog.

Icy rage gobbled up what remained of his hope, Taliyah’s connection to the dark god confirmed. An hour ago, he’d believed he’d planned for every eventuality. Never had he suspected a phantom possessed the ability to hide in plain sight, driving him insane with lust and possibilities, tricking him, minute by minute.

How had Erebus made someone like Taliyah?

What if she wasn’t made? Could she be his sibling, perhaps? Chaos knew of her. Had even mentioned her by name. But...no. If she belonged to the god’s familial line, Chaos would’ve stopped the wedding. The honorable mentor Roc served wouldn’t send a daughter to her death. Chaos wasn’t like Roc’s parents.

There must be another explanation for Taliyah’s condition.

Someone somewhere possessed answers. Someone always had answers, no truth ever fully erased. If anyone had spoken of Taliyah in dark places, Roc would find out. The Hall of Secrets collected whispers and confessions. A person needed only to sift through the countless voices to learn the most horrifying mysteries. Roux, even in his compromised state, sorted through the deluge better than most.

Focus. Who would Roc find inside the fortress? His nemesis, ready to gloat? He hoped so. He craved a battle.

Materializing in the entry, he paused and took stock. In the distance, a clock ticked and a fire crackled. No footsteps sounded. No voices drifted to indicate Erebus remained.

Roc flashed from room to room, scanning and memorizing, collecting data. There was no sign of Erebus or his phantoms. Not right now, at least. The god had definitely been here, his scent fresh. So was Taliyah’s.

The urge to commit violence consumed him. The master and his puppet had met here, along with two others. Harpies, most likely. Did they discuss Roc’s unprecedented reaction to Taliyah? The stardust he’d left on her skin? Did they laugh at his preoccupation with the woman?