His head didn’t move an inch. Meanwhile, her knuckles cracked against his bone and pain rocketed up her arm. Not fair!
He wasn’t reacting the way she’d hoped. Wait. Even through the haze, she noticed the way he fisted a hand and flared the other. The one with wet fingers.
Some part of him had enjoyed touching her. She grinned, pleased. A much better outcome—for her.
He nodded, as if he had just reached an important decision. “Yes. I do believe you’re the woman I seek.”
Then. That moment. Remembrance came, and her stomach bottomed out. Phaethon wasn’t a name but a rank.
This man was Commander of the Astra Planeta. The most brutal army ever to live.
Reeling all over again. She’d discovered the Astra Planeta while researching her fathers. The army consisted of twenty warlords, some living, some dead. Each male bore more than a hundred different titles. They’d once served as personal guards to Chaos, her secret grandfather. Motivations and objectives unknown, they’d killed his sons.
Reports claimed Chaos supported both his returned son, Erebus, and his former guards, refusing to pick sides as the two warred millennia upon millennia.
Would Erebus return to Harpina now? Did he know about her? She’d always wondered. Would Taliyah meet him at long last?
Did she want to?
If tales were to be believed, the Astra Planeta conquered worlds in less than twenty-four hours. They sometimes entered a state known as anhilla, a time when they killed without thought or mercy. Similar to what the berserkers experienced, only ten million times worse. Which made sense, since the Astra created berserkers.
They lived war and embodied conquest. Their favorite prey? Phantoms.
Tremors rushed through Taliyah’s limbs. Had the Astra come for her and Blythe?
No. No way they knew about the phantom daughters of their most despised enemy. If they’d had any clue, they would have struck at Taliyah already.
I might not walk away from this. I might have to crawl.
Alaroc exuded smug satisfaction, and it grated on her every nerve. “I see you’ve realized what I am.”
“Yes.” No reason to deny it. “You are Astra Planeta, primeval warlords fueled by planets. You travel from realm to realm, eradicating those who refuse to serve you. The evidence of your kills stains your skin, allowing others to observe the horrific nature of your crimes. No weaknesses, some say. Considered unbeatable, most proclaim.”
Despite her concerns, she grinned slowly, coldly. He liked threats? She’d give him a vow. “I will pop each of your individual vertebrae out of your mouth. You’ll be my own personal Pez dispenser. Afterward, I’ll wear your skin like a prized suit. I’ll call it the Husk of Defeat.” Her grandfather could take his favored soldiers and shove it.
The Astra’s nostrils flared with...not hostility. With a sizzling glare, he stepped into her personal space, pressing his body against hers.
Taliyah had a choice. Sever contact or let more of his heat chase away her cold, her pierced nipple aching with increased vigor every time she breathed.
Lucky piercing, Neeks? Really?
She craned up her face—and stayed put. Death before retreat.
Aggression charged the air.
Without looking away, he called to his men, “Bring the witness. The wedding happens today.”
4
Do not lick your fingers.
Yes! Lick.
Fool! Don’t you dare.
Commander Roc Phaethon assessed the ethereal beauty before him, desperate to forget the feminine honey that coated two of his fingers. He should wipe it away, ending temptation.
Yes, he should.
But he wouldn’t.
Taliyah Skyhawk had scrambled his thoughts.
Had he ever beheld such delicate features and fathomless eyes? Eyes a stunning shade of blue, reminding him of a frozen ocean, with depths unknown. Thick slashes of kohl rimmed spiky black lashes, providing a carnal frame.
Plaited silver-white locks created a crown effect, turning the harpy into a queen. Pale, silken skin gave an illusion of fragility. And her body... Exquisite.
Slender and toned, she wore a leather halter, with a built-in breastplate. A short skirt revealed long, lean legs strapped with multiple weapons. Her only other adornments were a plain metal band circling her left index finger and a small dagger hanging from a chain around her neck.
Her best and worst attribute was her scent. She smelled like frostberries. Like...home. Every inhalation made his chest clench.
She must be my bride. He was to pick whoever attracted him most. Therefore, no other would do.
When you sought greatness, you pushed and tested yourself. You didn’t choose the easy path. Rather, you endured hardness. Taliyah definitely qualified as a hardship. He’d known it the moment he’d first spied her.
Exactly twelve months ago, Roc arrived in Harpina. He’d walked the grounds undetected, taking notes, crafting the perfect battle plan, when this pale beauty had exited a shop in the market, across the street from him. The sight of her had arrested him. Then she’d turned, revealing small iridescent wings. His blood had heated, and he’d morphed into a living furnace.
She’d reminded him of home then, as well. Having spent the first part of his childhood in a frozen tundra, he’d looked at her and thought, She’s a winter wonderland.
He’d never enjoyed the cold, but he’d always adored the fire-warmed rooms in his parents’ palace. His older sisters had read him bedtime stories before a popping hearth.
Chest clenching, he shut down any thoughts outside the present. Securing Taliyah Skyhawk as his bride mattered, nothing else.
“Wedding?” she choked out.
He waved away her question. “You are part snakeshifter, yes?” Every time he’d come to Harpina, he’d looked for her. While he hadn’t come across her a second time, he had caught a thread of gossip about her. Well respected among her peers and highly protective of her family and friends. Bloodthirsty to the extreme.
“Wedding?” she repeated.
With the exception of phantoms, snakes were his least favorite species. Born liars with a seducer’s nature, all of them. Usually cowardly when pressed. Flattery spilled from their tongues without cease. They tempted and lured, happiest when they inspired misery. However, Roc was willing to tolerate this snakeshifter on a temporary basis. Hardships and all.
“Wedding,” he finally affirmed. She would be his most hauntingly beautiful bride yet. A shame he must sacrifice her to his god in thirty days. “Ours, in case I wasn’t clear.”
“Me? Marry you?” The harpy bristled. “I would rather—Oh...no. No, no, no.” She paled and whispered, “Say yes? Really, Neeks?”
Neeks? “You will agree, Taliyah.” For multiple reasons. Mostly because he commanded it. Roc expected absolute compliance from everyone at every moment. If someone refused to obey him, he quickly taught them the error of their ways.
He never received a second refusal.
“You really don’t want to marry me,” Taliyah told him with gritted teeth. “I have a temper only a consort can calm.” She flared her claws. “Want to guess if you’re my consort?”
Calm her? Roc had never calmed anyone from anything, not even himself. “Want to guess if I dread your temper? Harpies might be stronger than giants, but only as long as their wings are free. Pin them, and you’re all as weak as wee pixies.”
Oh, she didn’t like that bit of truth. She bared her fangs and snapped, “I will never marry you. Not even for the honor of making myself a widow.”
Where was the cowardly side of her snakeshifter nature? “When you say yes, and you will, I’ll grant you thirty days to kill me. An honor no one else receives. Succeed, and you’ll become Commander of my men. When you fail, and you will, I’ll sacrifice your virgin body to my god.”
“Sacrifice? You’re a killer by nature. How does ending your wife qualify as a sacrifice?”
She had no idea. More than anything, Roc wanted a family of his own. Wanted to protect his loved ones. To provide for them.
He proceeded as if she hadn’t spoken, ready to get this done. “Don’t think to seduce me or another warlord to disqualify yourself. I’ll kill you anyway, and your people with you.” Let there be no misunderstanding between them. He wasn’t a good man.
The muscles in her shoulders knotted with aggression. Not an unusual occurrence in his presence. Despite this, she did something no other prospective bride had done. She pressed a hand against her heart and fluttered her lashes. “Murderous threats against my people? Finally! The romance my life has been missing. Should I say yes now or wait until you describe exactly how you’re going to kill everyone? You know, to really flood me with desire.”
Were her wings fluttering? He wondered how they’d feel against his flesh. He barely stopped himself from running a hand up the ridges of her spine. “At some point, you will beg me to take your virginity. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I’ll beg you for nothing!” she spit.
That was her only point of contention? “Your attempt to seduce me will only waste your time and erase my respect.” Brides would do anything to disqualify themselves from the sacrifice. But then, they didn’t know the truth.
Roc didn’t actually need a virgin. He preferred them.
Sacrifice his bride, and he and his men received a mystical blessing to win every battle they waged for the next five centuries. Sacrifice his virgin bride, and they received a mystical blessing plus a powerful weapon. Of course, he couldn’t claim either prize until the other Astra Planeta had successfully completed their own tasks. Everything from finding lost cities to crafting powerful weapons.
Neither Roc nor his men required the blessing. If they fought, they won. Period. Unless they were cursed.
He straightened his shoulders. If a single Astra botched his task, a curse came automatically upon the entire group, ensuring they lost every battle they waged.
“Right,” Taliyah said with a nod, exchanging fury for wry humor. “Because boning the man who injured and imprisoned my people is super high on my bucket list.”
“I’ll be sure to remind you of these words the first time you crawl into my bed.”
“Darling, if you find me in your bed, you’ll be too busy dying to remind me of anything.”
Did she ever back down?
“I will resist you,” he continued, “because I have a higher purpose.” Long ago, the god Chaos created his own personal army. Demigods with the potential to ascend, becoming gods themselves. To do this, he’d purchased twenty children from his fellow Greeks. Young boys he’d raised with a stern hand, teaching the ways of the ancients. Might makes right.
Roc and his biological brother were part of the twenty, and at first, they had despised Chaos. The male had seemed to enjoy the pain he’d inflicted upon each of his charges...
To be remade, you must first be broken. To shed weakness, you must defeat the pain you fear. I’ll break you in ways you can’t imagine and hurt you in ways you’ll never forget. For centuries to come, you’ll curse my name, but when you look back, you’ll thank me for it all. You’ll be stronger than you ever dreamed possible.
Chaos had kept his word. Under his tutelage, Roc had strengthened in a thousand different ways. He was still strengthening. Now he protected the people under his charge by any means necessary.
No one took what belonged to him.
Soon, he would ascend for the second time, reaching new heights. Becoming a god far greater than the parents who’d sold him. Far greater than the enemy he loathed with every fiber of his being.
Nothing would stop him from achieving this goal. Nothing.
“Hey, Alaroc?” Taliyah batted her long lashes at him as she nibbled on her plump bottom lip. “Are you sure I’ll be wasting my time trying to seduce you? Absolutely, positively sure your higher purpose matters more than your desires?”
He laughed and patted the top of her head. “I’m sure, harpy.” He harbored zero uncertainties.
In the beginning, Celestian “Ian” Eosphorus, had been the Commander. Roc’s brother. But Ian had failed to sacrifice his first bride, bringing the curse upon the Astra. They’d lost two men the first hour and had to make a retreat. A humiliation seared into his memory.
They’d spent the next five hundred years in hibernation. Upon awakening, they’d discovered Ian’s demotion, another warrior given the Commander’s helmet. A ruthless barbarian named Solar.
Solar, once the leader responsible for wedding a virgin bride. Time after time, he’d done it without complaint. Then he’d met the siren. He’d made the mistake of taking her to bed and everything changed.
“She is my gravita,” he’d said. The female who spun his world out of orbit. Who both rushed and slowed time for him, her pull too strong to deny. “I produce stardust for her.”
Stardust was a sparkling powder produced in an Astra’s palms, toxic to all but its creator and his gravita.
In the end, Solar had spared his bride, exactly as Ian had.
Both males lost their females, anyway. On the very same day as the sacrifice. Solar had died minutes after his bride, leaving the remaining Astra to fight on without him.
Bitterness coated Roc’s tongue, old fury flaring. What leader had the right to choose a bride over his men?
“Yes, but are you sure you’re sure?” Taliyah asked. “Like, no doubts or anything?”
How much plainer could he make this? “In thirty days, you will die a virgin.”
“Yes, yes. That’s very believable. Except...” She motioned to his groin. “One of us has a raging hard-on, and it isn’t me. I left mine at home.”
He ground his molars. “Today’s takeover proved unchallenging. I released no battle heat. Now my body seeks other methods for expulsion.” Nothing more.
“Suuure. Follow-up question. When do I get to shove two fingers into you? You know, to check for your virginity.”
“You’re welcome to try whatever you’d like.” He had to admit, he admired her spirit. But then, all brides exhibited spirit in the beginning. Once the overconfidence wore off, fury took over. Hope quickly followed. Then desperation. Finally, she would accept her doom and soothe herself with hatred. “Like the others before you, you have nothing I need.”
“Oh, really?” Her eyes lit with calculation, contrasting with the innocence of her haunting beauty. Stepping closer, she pressed a cold palm over his heart. “Women are interchangeable?”
He silenced a hiss, discomforted by her chill. Her boldness. Few brides had ever dared handle him without first seeking permission. “You are.”
“What if I promise to be really nice to you?” A rosy flush spreading up her arm. Because she absorbed his body heat, his warmth conquering new territory? “Would that help my cause?”
Could he melt her entire body? At the thought, his erection...throbbed.
Scowling, Roc pushed her hand away. “Enough, harpy.”
She grinned at him, slowly, wickedly. “I could have you if I wanted you, warrior.”
Despite his odd reaction to her, he laughed again, the very idea of his capitulation ludicrous. “I like sex. I use it to purge excess aggression. But I’ve lived a long time and taken many females, one orgasm as good as the next. Whatever I might want from you, I’ll accept from my concubine. Yes, she’s here, and yes, she will see to my needs.”
“I’ll wed you, Commander,” another harpy called.
Without removing his attention from Taliyah, he held up a hand, a command to his men to keep the audience silent. He would allow no distraction with his chosen female.
“Your concubine is welcome to you with my compliments.” Taliyah furrowed b
rows surprisingly as dark as her lashes, deep in thought. “Let’s pretend I’m a fool who says yes to your proposal, just because my best friend told me to. Why the thirty-day stay of execution?”
He had no reason to tell her. Still, he said, “My determination and fortitude must be tested.”
“Will I be locked away those thirty days?”
“Obey my rules, and you’ll have unlimited access to the palace.”
“Let me guess the first rule,” she replied, her tone flat. “Never leave said palace.”
“Exactly right. If you attempt to leave, I’ll know, and I’ll come get you. Trust me when I say you don’t want me to come get you, harpy.”
She searched his gaze, as if trying to fit squares into circles. “You don’t fear me at all, do you?”
“Your need for clarification baffles me.” He feared losing the blessing for his brothers-in-arms, nothing else. If he had to commit a cold-blooded murder to save them, if he must live with the consequences of his deed for the rest of eternity, so be it.
The harpy’s death would be a blow to his enemy.
Soon, Erebus Phantom would find him. The god would arrive in Harpina with a single goal: to make the Astra miserable.
Even thinking his name boiled Roc’s blood. Chaos’s eldest son was the most vile, corrupt being in existence. The miscreant knew there was no better period to strike than the months before the bestowing of a new blessing, when victory and defeat were not guaranteed.
The male despised the members of his father’s army and always had, his envy unchecked. The mind-boggling atrocities he’d committed against the Astra over the years...
He’d struck out once too often, and the Astra had finally retaliated. Back then, Roc had worried about losing Chaos’s respect. The god loved his son dearly. But Chaos also loved the Astra. In the end, he’d opted to support both sides equally.
Roc loved Chaos, as well. He admired the male for his unwavering devotion to those under his care. A failure of his own parents.
“Uh-oh. Did someone hit a land mine in their head?” Taliyah’s smooth voice mocked him, and his scowl returned.
The Warlord Page 4
