Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Relief bombarded him. Whatever had happened, she was on the mend. But who was T-bone?
He looked over the rest of her. More shoulder length black curls had escaped the bun, tendrils curling over the pillow. She wore the T-shirt he’d provided. The hem had ridden up, revealing a circle of rubies around her navel. She wore the sweatpants, too, but she’d hacked off most of the fabric, leaving her glorious legs on display. Chocolate chip cookie dust stuck to her fingertips. Had she searched his room and eaten his snacks during his absence? Well of course she had. What harpy wouldn’t?
He tried to walk away, but more and more mátia zoomed to her navel, ensnared. The fact that his blood now flowed through her body...
Muscles turned to tempered steel, and he rumbled with undeniable desire. She wasn’t responsible for his reaction of course. Lore was. Being in the goddess’s presence always left him ravenous for physical release. A reason he’d agreed to open the stable in the first place.
Focus! He launched into a swift pace beside the bed and worked to sort through everything he’d learned today. Lore’s spirit was bound to her skull. He should have guessed. Should’ve tried harder to locate it. Should’ve saved her from the Astra sooner.
Guilt and shame scorched Rathbone. She’d cried. Cried! A goddess with a heart as pure as hers should only ever laugh.
From now on, nothing would sidetrack him from Lore’s reanimation. Finally, king and queen would get to enjoy their later.
Well, maybe he’d let himself be a little sidetracked. Death awaited the Astra who’d dared take what Rathbone loved most—a warlord who planned to do so again. Revenge demanded its due.
A satisfying but flawed strategy. If he went after the Astra first, he’d all but hand the warlord victory. As he’d learned from his war with Styx, defeating other gods required patience, undivided attention, and unending resources. Attempting to defeat harpies, allies to the Astra, at the same time only complicated matters further.
To acquire everything Rathbone desired, he must see to Lore’s safety before he launched his attack against the Astra.
As soon as Neeka awoke, Rathbone would demand she find another bone. If she couldn’t, he would lock her in his dungeon, where she’d remain until she complied. Their easy comradery was over.
A soft moan rose from her. Strung as tight as a bow, he flashed to the oracle’s side, ready to explain his plan of action.
“The elephant is wearing the wrong tutu,” she muttered.
What dreams danced inside her complicated mind? They must be as chaotic and nonsensical as the female herself. He wouldn’t doubt if unicorns frolicked among the tutu-wearing elephants, eating cotton candy while brandishing blood-soaked machetes.
Rathbone sat beside her and traced a fingertip along her jawline. “Neeka. Enough lazing. Wake.”
Slowly she pried open her eyelids. Rich amber irises ringed by a darker brown found him, glazed by the vestiges of sleep. A soft smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Hmmm. I taste good.”
The sight of her knotted his stomach all over again, but not with concern. Not this time. At least she made no mention of the blood.
“Did you know you eat chocolate chip cookies in bed?” she asked, stretching.
“I do,” he admitted. No one else knew about his secret obsession, not even Lore.
“I prefer celery,” she admitted in such a grave tone he couldn’t help but smile in turn.
“What do the elephants prefer?”
“Elephants?” Her brows drew together, and she blinked rapidly. “I’m in bed. I slept. Near you.” She jolted upright. “How dare you invade my space!”
“Your space?” Anger replaced the sense of whimsy, reminding him of his purpose. He stood, saying, “You have one hour to find the next bone. Things are different now.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” she grumbled. “Lore is back in town.”
“How did you—”
She tapped her temple. “Oracle, remember?”
“You had a vision? That’s why you passed out?”
“Yes and no. Look,” she said before he could insist on an explanation. “I get it, no need for a speech. If I fail you, you’re gonna go merciless villain on me. Prison cell. Chains. The works. But do us both a favor and chill out. I’ll do my duty, okay? As promised, I always sometimes come through.”
“Do it quickly,” he insisted.
Neeka peered up at him, all innocence. “You’re as surly as a bear roused early from hibernation. How am I supposed to operate under these conditions?”
He balled his hands. Was she playing him? Secretly driving him to insanity to aid the Astra? After all, she had summoned Rathbone to her doorstep. Even if she claimed not to remember.
But either way, what choice did he have but to roll with her methods? She got results. Anything else could be dealt with later.
“You will remain by my side,” he grated as pleasantly as he was able, “but you will be silent unless you have a vision.”