The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1)

“Now, we all know better than that.” Her chiding tone bore a hint of her smile. “After such a magnificent display of manly prowess, you’re only embarrassing yourself with your denials. Well, you’re also embarrassing me, since I’m the object of your desire and all. Enough chatter. We’ve got cleanup to do.” She pressed a swift kiss into his lips, hopped down and pushed past him.

He silenced a command—or a plea—for her return and faced his brother. “Assemble and prepare the armies for the next attack.” Knowing Erebus, he’d burned through a small piece of his army to make a point, proving he had other ways to reach the blessing bride.

“There’s more of these things?” Taliyah wrinkled her nose. “After all that, we didn’t just save the day?”

Roc almost closed the distance. Almost dragged her into his arms. The need to hold and touch her refused to fade.

Ian frowned at her, then Roc, then Taliyah again. His brother didn’t know what to make of what had just happened—what was still happening. Neither did Roc.

Ultimately, Ian settled on Roc. Incredulous, he thrust a small purple stone in his hand.

“What am I looking at?” he asked, rubbing the stone. Dense. Rough. Powerful. Familiar. His brows drew together as cold spread over him. “No. I cannot be holding what I think I’m holding. We destroyed the last piece thousands of years ago.”

Ian’s expression acquired a grave edge. “Apparently, Erebus found more. He hung the stones from a leather cord.”

“Someone tell the rest of the class,” Taliyah said, tossing up her arms.

“This is firstone. What trinite does to a phantom, firstone does to an Astra. It’s the reason we couldn’t flash during combat.”

Ian gaped at him. “Why don’t you make a list of the few ways to kill us and help your bride study it, brother?”

“Because he isn’t a tool?” Taliyah asked calmly. “Not all the time, anyway.”

Roc replied to neither of them, his mind whirling. Erebus had sent these hordes as a warning shot. He wanted Roc worried. Which meant Roc shouldn’t worry. He should enjoy his wife.

His brother said something else, but Roc lost track, too busy observing Taliyah, who unabashedly amassed a sizable firstone collection in a matter of minutes, stuffing the pebbles in the pockets of her shorts. She wasn’t even trying to hide her actions. When she came upon the wing-pinner, she grew rigid before bending down to gather the pieces.

She whipped around to face him, their eyes meeting. Pure defiance, she hurled the metal as far as harpily possible, daring him to complain.

Hobble her again? No. Something had happened to Roc during the battle. Something significant. He didn’t yet understand the intricacies or complications of it, whatever it was, but he knew his relationship with Taliyah was forever altered. If he had lost her today...

He stalked to her, removed the wrist cuffs and hefted her into his arms, carrying her straight to their bedroom.

28

As the Astra drew a bath, Taliyah remained in the doorway of the bathroom, caught up in an unexpected quandary. She and Roc had reached new territory today. Like, serious couple territory. She knew it. The metal was no longer an issue. They were past it. Roc was choosing to trust her to keep her end of the original bargain and stay put to fight him.

He had killed and bled for her.

He desired her more intensely than anyone else ever had.

He longed to save her. She knew that, too.

The brutal way he’d dispensed of the phantoms to rescue her... Had any male ever looked so sinfully seductive while exuding such evil intent? The warlord had attacked their foes so viciously, so savagely, he’d morphed into the monster her mother had warned her about. More frightening than the hordes—and okay, yeah, the creepiness of the phantoms had taken her by surprise. Mouths with hundreds of tiny suction cups remained wide open, at the ready.

The fiends had iced her brand, just as Erebus had. They’d attempted to feed on her. Her. One of their own. Well, almost one of their own. She was nothing like those ravenous shells.

No, not true. She was absolutely, positively ravenous. Already she could taste Roc’s power...

As soon as the number of invaders had dwindled, she’d had the distinct privilege of watching him. He’d awed her. The mastery he’d demonstrated over his body had been so complete, the fight appeared choreographed. He’d known when to go high and when to shift low, displaying the perfect ebb and flow of offense and defense.

The way he’d used his claws and three-blade to tear his victims into too many pieces to identify had been a real eye-opener for Taliyah. As skilled as she was, she realized she stood no chance against him—yet. He was faster, moving at warp speed. He was stronger by leaps and bounds. Anyone who’d come into contact with his otherworldly glow had caught fire. Not with literal flames, but mystical. So, anyone who’d come into contact with his otherworldly glow had died in unbelievable agony.