The Wrath – Rise of the Warlords Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
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“Nooo!” The bones. She’d left them behind. A treasure for Grenwich to nab.

“You are injured.” Remaining on the floor, Rathbone yanked her close, bit his wrist and placed the wound over her mouth. “What happened?” Strain etched deep grooves around his eyes.

“It was a setup,” she said after swallowing a mouthful of liquid power. She fought to catch her breath. “Lore controls ten adult hybrids, and my mother aids her. They have the remaining bones now.” Tears blurred Neeka’s vision. How miserably she’d failed. “If we give Azar the orb, he’ll resurrect Lore before the ceremony. Maximus might survive, but no one else will.”

That was the true horror. Whatever road they traveled, they ended up in the same place: doomed.

Hades flashed in front of her, knocking Rathbone out of the way. “Yes, but what did my goddess say?” he demanded.

“Oh, um, she’s coming for you or whatever.”

Rathbone shoved the other male away and pulled Neeka onto his lap. “I’ll present the Astra with a deal he cannot refuse.”

“Which is?”

“I’ll shift into Lore. I will be her in every way that matters. There will be no need for her to revive. He’ll kill me and win his task against Erebus.”

“What? No. You won’t revive.”

On cue, a new vision opened in her mind. The throne room ceremony. She saw Rathbone shift into Lore. Saw Azar claw out his heart while muttering words Neeka didn’t understand. Saw Rathbone fall and never get up, and Chaos announce the Astra the winners of the task.

“No!” she shouted, jolting into the present. “Unacceptable. Promise me you won’t do that, Rathbone. Please. I’ll agree to be your queen if you’ll swear not to do it. I require you in this form.”

His expression softened, and he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “You were right about the shadow monsters. We can’t allow Lore to birth them. If they were to harm you... ” He shook his head. “That’s a future I will never allow.”

He jerked, his nostrils flaring with his next inhalation. “I now understand the warning Erebus issued. But it won’t stop me. I caused this situation, and I will end it. To keep you safe, I will give up anything. Even my life.”

30

Azar stared at the femur in his clasp, not wanting to ponder how he’d gotten it and desperate to destroy it. With this bone and its companion added to his collection, he needed only the orb to bestow flesh and blood upon Lore. An orb he was set to obtain within a matter of minutes.

Defenses cracked inside him. The King of Agonies wouldn’t allow his son to die as a prisoner of the Astra. An admirable trait, but one that endangered everyone Azar loved. Because, as soon as Rathbone complied, and he would, their doom was assured. But then, their doom would be assured even if the king refused.

Azar squeezed his eyes shut, hating himself. The highest law of the Astra: if you did not guard it, you could not keep it. He hadn’t guarded his brethren. Or himself.

How had he allowed his life to reach this point? Now there was nothing anyone could do to save themselves. Or stop him. Unless...

Perhaps a hope or two remained. The oracle, and Silver.

Azar glanced at his prisoner. Maximus sat secured to a chair at the end of the conference table, glaring at him. The boy wore Silver’s metal; there was no way he could escape. If there were something Azar could use to bind Lore...

He flashed to Silver’s bedroom, making use of the male’s open invitation. The warlord lounged on a chaise, sketching designs for his next project. He’d shaved the sides of his head and bound his long black hair in braids.

As the metalworker, he made their weapons. Among other things. Of all Astra, Azar had the strongest bond with Silver, the gruffest of the nine. He was a soldier who never allowed his emotions to get in his way. Never deviated from an order or wavered during a mission.

“The crimson king won’t escape us again,” Silver vowed without glancing up. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“His capture matters little.” Only the orb counted at this point.

“Nevertheless, I will bind him tighter than I bind my concubine.”

“You and your challenges.” Azar hesitated before asking what he’d come to ask. “Is there a way to undo an ancient binding spell between two immortals?” No one knew the rules of anything, and how to bend them, better than Silver.

The metalworker, also known as the Fiery One, placed his book on the cushion and sat up. Rare amusement glittered in eyes the same color as his name. “You thinking to cut ties between the king and the goddess?”

Guilt spread its poison across his mind, leaving a thick layer of infection. “I’ve considered it.” But that wasn’t his endgame. The two were no longer tethered. He didn’t let himself consider the real reason he’d asked.


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