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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“Watch yourself.” Rathbone’s sinewy arm whipped out, snatching Neeka by the waist to thwart her collision with an opening door.

This is it! Her golden opportunity to pounce. Could she tempt the Scarlet Storm without the elixir or not?

Neeka used his shoulder as a prop and jumped up, rotating in the air and flinging her legs around his waist. He halted right there on the sidewalk, his gaze snapping to hers, and gripped her backside. His heat and strength enveloped her, and his enticing scent teased her nose.

Fire flashed in his irises as she molded her curves to his solid frame. Her breath caught. He was hard as steel.

“What are you doing, carrot?” As people darted around them, he kneaded her, making her heart pound in a frenzied rhythm the rest of her yearned to emulate.

Carrot? An endearing nickname just for her? What she wouldn’t give to hear his tone! If it matched the hunger in his expression...

The most delicious aches bloomed. “What do you think I’m doing, Rathboner?”

His pupils dilated, one shade of black overtaking the other. A good sign, yes? She couldn’t think past the incredible need sweeping through her. To move against him. To lick and bite and taste.

“I think you’re playing with fire.” His gaze dipped to her lips. “Do you want to burn?”

She ran her bottom lip between her teeth, tempted to do things to this male, and not just for the mission. “Who says I’m not already burning?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. His eyelids narrowed. “You’re flirting with me. Care to admit why?”

“How dare you,” she said with mock affront, toying with the ends of his hair. “I’m flirting well.” She was, wasn’t she? “You admit it.”

“Why?” he insisted, ignoring her demand. “I’m not your type. I’m taken.”

“Are you though?” How he held her, his sensuous response, told a different story. Plus, she’d never forgotten the stardust Azar left on the goddess. Rathbone couldn’t be the woman’s mate. For all Neeka knew, he belonged to...someone else.

“I am,” he insisted.

“Are you though?” she repeated. Before he could protest a second time, she brushed the tip of her nose against his and added, “Maybe I find you irresistible. Ever think of that?”

His lips softened. His inhalations shallowed, and his gaze hooded. “I did think of that.”

Anticipation tingled across her nerve endings. He’d purred the words, hadn’t he? “And...?”

“And.” With a huff, he set her on her feet and severed contact. “We’re here for a reason. Let’s get it done.” He stomped off, forcing her to follow.

Dang it, where had she gone wrong?

As she caught up, he adjusted his grip on the bulky bag and asked, “What’s in this thing?”

Excellent question. She had yet to recall. “Can you not handle it? Poor baby.” Faking sympathy, she reached for the strap. “Give it to me. The all-powerful harpy will save the day, as usual.”

He angled, preventing contact. A little too quickly? “I can handle anything you toss at me, carrot.”

Her special nickname! She groaned. Already it was her kryptonite. Wait. “Do you even like carrots?”

“I do now.” Had he grumbled those words? He looked like he’d grumbled.

A group of soldiers passed them, and she snapped back to business. Showtime!

Most of the males were too busy perusing Rathbone to notice her. But some did. After giving them a practiced deer in headlights look, she ducked her head, as if too intimidated to maintain eye contact, then she stopped in the middle of the busy pathway.

Rathbone backtracked. “Have you seen enough of the world?” he asked as citizens blazed past them. He frowned when she clasped his shoulders and corrected his stance. Perfect. “May I flash us closer to the palace now?”

“Did I forget to tell you? You won’t be flashing for a while.” She offered him her cheeriest smile. “The metal won’t let you.”

His frown deepened. “What metal?”

A nanosecond later, a spear whizzed through the air and embedded in his heart. He stumbled, the backpack slipping from his shoulder. Onlookers gasped or screamed and dashed off.

Amid the throes of shock, Rathbone glanced down at his injury. The thin beam protruded from both sides of his torso. “You orchestrated this?”

“Yes, and you’re very welcome.” She beamed at him.

When he attempted to remove the weapon, spikes popped from the shaft, holding the missile in place. Blood several shades darker than his gorgeous skin trickled from the wound.

“The metal prevents teleportation of any kind,” she explained. “I know, I know. I should’ve given you a little more warning.” For her own plan to work, she’d needed an excuse to leave his side. “If it helps, there’s a second spear headed your way.”

As promised, another lance whistled between them, about to nail its mark. He ducked just in time, yanking her down with him. As he glided to his feet, he grabbed the pack and tossed her over his uninjured shoulder. Then he bounded onward, heading away from those who’d threatened his life.


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