The phantom, p.29
The Phantom, page 29
“All hail the new queen of Ation,” he shouted.
A collective denial rang out.
The councilmembers spoke over each other. “This isn’t possible.”
“Wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“The crown belongs to us!”
“No one will be leaving this realm!”
Blythe’s gaze flipped up, finding Roux on the dais. The connection and chemistry between them arced, a lightning bolt to his systems.
He saluted her, and she winked.
Oh, how he longed to stalk over and yank his harpy into his arms. Maybe on Laban’s behalf, maybe not. Either way, Roux could not let her go. He was keeping her, and that was that. What else mattered?
As if she’d read his thoughts, she nodded. Soon, she mouthed.
Yes. Soon. They would have their talk and plan their future. He could decide how to handle the blessing task. But harm her? Never again. He’d do everything in his power to make amends with Isla. Never could he take her father’s place. Never would he try. But no matter her feelings, he intended to oversee her protection for the rest of his days.
Realizing she’d lost her leverage, Penelope screeched—the last sound she made. In a blink, Blythe was standing before her, little more than mist, and splitting open her torso. The wraith vanished as her guts spilled out.
“Told you,” Isla told Roux as Blythe materialized at her side. “She always wins.”
He smiled. “That she does.”
Aggression rose from the royal council. He spun, facing them. “A single battle remains, and it’s ours.”
Sensing their end, the females attacked him in unison. As blows were exchanged, he and Blythe pressed together, forming a wall in front of the little girl. Block. Strike. Block, block. Slash.
But the child didn’t stay put. Moving out from behind them, Isla stretched out her arms. As her brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled, the air at the opposite end of the dais rippled. The underground began to shake, dirt billowing, rocks falling. Then, a colorful door appeared, with a lock above the handle.
The girl grinned up at her mother. “See.”
For a moment, the battle paused. An Amazon was the first to recover. She hurried over and twisted the knob. That knob held.
“Gotta use the key, dummy,” Isla taunted, revealing the length of ornately carved silver in her palm.
Roux flashed over and tore the Amazon away from the door, allowing Blythe to transport her daughter there. Isla inserted the key, twisted, and removed the key. A click sounded, the knob turning on its own. Hinges creaked as the block opened, again on its own, welcoming the scent of honeysuckle and roses and revealing a bedroom Roux had seen in the Harpinian palace. A room he knew to be Blythe’s. The king-size bed was unmade, the dresser scattered with weapons. Heaps of ash filled the hearth. A portrait of Roux graced the center of the mantel, a cluster of darts embedded into both of his eyes.
A giant rock fell, barely missing the dais. Mother and daughter stumbled to the side. The Amazon wrenched free and soared through the doorway without bouncing back. Roux almost couldn’t process the feat.
The other councilmembers forgot all about their opponents and attempted to follow the Amazon through the opening. Before they could make it, he flashed inside the entrance, dragged the Amazon from the room, then herded the others backward.
“Go,” he shouted to Blythe, fighting off the enemy as the shaking worsened. “Get Isla to safety. I’ll follow you as soon as I keep the promise I made to these women.”
She looked ready to protest until a bigger rock smacked into the stands. She scooped the girl into her arms and, as he turned to the side, she zoomed past him, shooting through the opening.
Relief bathed him. His girls were safe.
The councilmembers were undeterred. They sprang forward, attempting to claw their way past him. Without Blythe and Isla to worry about, he altered the air, ensuring his foes inhaled the same poison he’d fed the combatants.
One by one, his tormentors screamed and collapsed, writhing on the floor. Wounds appeared. Blood poured.
A delightful sight indeed. “For days you did your best to harm my female. Now you will learn the error of your ways.” He unleashed his worst power, forcing their spirits to rise from their bodies. Drawing those spirits closer. Absorbing each one in his skin. What were a few more prisoners?
The other inmates recognized what was happening and screamed protests about overcrowding. He didn’t care. As if fettered by an invisible chain, the radiant spirits whisked to him and absorbed through his pores. Inside his head, he was right there to greet them with another smile before tossing them into cells. Their screams joined the chorus of noise, and satisfaction filled him.
The cavern shook with far more force, rock after rock tumbling. A serenade of roars erupted in every direction. Distinct roars Roux recognized. Dragons. Not exterminated, after all, but hiding.
The monsters in the underground.
Roux pivoted on his heel, ready to return to Harpina and—the door had vanished.
He patted the air, but it was gone. Either it had faded...or Isla had closed it. Her version of payback? No matter. Working his jaw, he flashed topside, into the sunlight to await the dragons. As the ground beneath his feet quaked and cracked, he summoned his backpack and the array of weapons inside it.
Perfect timing. The first dragon burst from the earth, flinging large clumps of dirt. With a flap of its wings, the horned, scaled creature the size of a cottage launched into the air and spewed a stream of fire. Another dragon followed suit a few yards away.
Aggression and malice prickled Roux’s skin. Focused on his goals, he withdrew a retractable spear. After he killed the fiends, he was getting off this realm. One way or another.
29
THE CULMINATION
Blythe’s eyes widened as ferocious roars filled the bedroom. What was that?
She stood in front of Isla with her daggers steady. She would slay anyone who came through that mystical door. Not that she believed a councilmember would get past Roux. The giant Astra blocked the entrance, his back to her. Before him, the females dropped and screamed. The cavern shook with increasing force. Dust blustered into the bedroom, tickling her nose.
“Roux!” she shouted. “Finish them and come on!” Wait. “The door. It’s fading.” She gasped. Wrong. The door was just...gone. No more roars. No more cavern or dust. Panic overtook her. She dropped the daggers and slapped at the air, searching for some remnant. Nothing. A whimper escaped. “Where did the door go, sweetheart?”
“I think I ran out of power,” Isla replied, her voice strained.
Stomach churning, heart thundering, Blythe crouched before her daughter. The darling had grown pale and trembly. “Are you all right? Were you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” Despite the hint of weakness, the little girl flipped her fall of dark hair over her shoulder, as sassy as ever. “Told you I could do it.”
“Yes, but how did you do it? And can you do it again after you power up?”
“’Course I can do it again.” Isla puffed up her chest. “Creating the door was as easy as I expected. The key was the only hard part. I had to design it myself, since Grandpa Bus never crafted one. But I don’t need to make another door and key, Momma. You’re home.”
“I’m not leaving the Astra behind.” Today, Blythe had made some life-changing decisions. As she’d fought the Phoenix, she’d known Roux would protect her daughter until his last breath. Then. That moment. She’d had no more hate to give, the root of bitterness in her heart withered. And when she’d proved victorious and glanced up, catching the Astra’s eye, desire for him—for a future with him—had overwhelmed her.
She wanted him, and so she would have him. If Laban truly did reside inside Roux’s head, they could search for a way to free him and help his spirit move on to the afterlife. It was the right thing to do, yes? Unless Laban wished to stay there and have some sort of contact with his family?
Ugh. That part still required contemplation.
And what if Roux desired Blythe only because of her first consort’s presence, somehow tapping into Laban’s emotions and experiencing them himself? Will I lose him, too?
A worry for tomorrow. First up, getting her male home. No doubt he’d find a way on his own. The guy was an unstoppable force of nature. But why not help him for once? As harpies like to say, couples who slayed together stayed together. They could take care of vengeful wraiths, a (possibly) recovered Phoenix, and whatever had roared.
“Are you going back to kill him?” Isla asked, her brow wrinkled.
How to explain? Should she even try right now? “We’ll discuss my plans for him later. Here’s what we’re gonna do now,” she said, exploding to her feet and rushing about to grab what she needed. Isla’s key. Bag. Her own clothes. Favorite toiletries. Weapons. “I’m flashing to Ation.” Since she’d visited already, she didn’t need another door to facilitate her arrival. Only her departure. “You’ll stay here. Tell Aunt Taliyah what happened. She’ll supply you with a phantom feast tonight.” An assembly line of powerful immortals would strengthen the girl like never before. “In the morning, if I haven’t returned, you’ll open another door. Under no circumstances are you to speak with...Bus again. He’s a very bad man who harmed Mommy.”
“Oh.” Isla narrowed her eyes. “He didn’t tell me that part.”
“He’s crafty. He fooled me, too.” Again, Blythe crouched before her daughter and hugged her close. “I love you with all my heart. You know that, yes?”
“I do. I love you, too.”
“When I get back, we’ll chat about everything that’s happened. I’ll explain in detail. All right? Go on now. Do as you were told.”
Isla hugged her a second time before rushing from the room. Tears burned Blythe’s eyes. She stood, anchored the bag to her shoulder and breathed deep. To Ation we go. She flashed to the palace—a searing wind enveloped her. What the—what?
The palace was in rubble, and she balanced upon the remains. Cracks forked through the land, flames shooting forth. If Carrigan revived, she’d have to dig her way out. One threat eliminated at least. But for good or for a short time?
Blythe cast her gaze farther out. Smoke blackened the sky and tainted her inhalations. The only light came from multiple fires. Flames all around. Every silo a heap of stone and lumber.
A roar ripped through the darkness, and she detected as much pain and fury in the undertone. Battling Roux?
She flashed closer to the source, in the direction of Wraith Island. There! On the beach, in a haze of fire and smoke, Roux brutally murdered a dragon. The massive creature flopped to the ground, alongside four others.
Her heart beat with more force. Though she stood hundreds of yards away on moss-covered stones, the Astra heard the erratic drum. He must have. His head snapped up, his crimson eyes lasering to her. He was panting, splattered with blood, and so sexy she felt gobsmacked. His clothes were singed, his skin streaked with soot.
Onyx water stretched out behind him. On the island itself, the palace blazed like a bonfire. No sign of the wraiths.
Between one blink and the next, Roux appeared before her, a looming tower of menace. “You came back for me.”
“I planned to tag team any threats with you, but I see you’ve finished the game on your own.” She dropped the bag and threw her arms around him. “Let’s celebrate your victory.”
He dipped down to kiss the hollow of her neck where the ruby once resided. Voice throaty, he said, “You forgave me for our past.” The menace got replaced by raw savagery.
“I have.” She smiled at him. “We can’t go back and change our beginning, but we can start fresh and change our ending.”
“Yes.” He slammed his mouth to hers and tangled their tongues together. A ruthless claiming. This man owned her mouth.
Driven by desire, she yanked at his clothes. He shredded hers and drove her to the carpeted stone. They devoured each other. Clutched and kneaded. As his white-hot palms covered her with stardust, preparing her body for his invasion, a frenzy quickly took hold of them both.
“More,” she commanded. “Give me more. All. Everything.”
“You are mine. Understand? Mine!” He gripped her chin and captured her gaze. “Want me,” he demanded harshly. An order he clearly expected her to obey. “Only me.”
Stripped of all artifice, she offered a hoarse, honest response. “With every fiber of my being.”
“Never letting you go. Keeping you forever.”
“Always.”
He bared his teeth as though she’d dared to protest. “Woe to anyone who tries to take you away from me.”
Too intense! Too good! All-consuming. He kissed her again and slowly worked his way inside her. Sweat dotted brutal features tight with strain. Their exhalations mingled until they inhaled the other’s ragged breaths.
“This is...you are...” He didn’t stop until he was fully seated, filling her. His eyes rolled back in his head. “Everything!”
The pleasure...aah! She was coming undone already. Coming, coming, coming, flooded by euphoria spiced with connection and possession. Her inner walls spasmed around him, no part of her unaffected. Roux owned her, period. Had marked her inside and out. Just as she had owned and marked him.
She’d promised to give him a story for his first time, but as he rocked inside her, harder and harder, driving her bliss higher, he became the author of the tale. Confident and assertive, an animal reduced to nothing but need. Body, mind, and being, he took her—branded her.
Blythe couldn’t tear her gaze from the savagery of his expression. At this moment in time, he hid nothing from her. She saw it all, everything he felt for her. The consuming lust. The desperation and ferocity. An adoration she’d never noticed before. He looked at her as if she were his lifeline. The very reason he breathed.
“Say my name,” he commanded with his next plunge. “Let me hear it on your lips.”
“Roux. Roux.” Tension built all over again, reaching for a new pinnacle and...almost there...yes, yes... She came all over again. “Roux!” she cried, shuddering beneath him. Muscles clenched and limbs quivered.
He followed her over, throwing back his head and bellowing, “Lyla!”
When they sagged to the ground, panting and shaking, she curled into his side, wholly content. Felt so natural, being with him this way. As if they were two puzzle pieces joined together.
She combed her fingers through his hair and nibbled on his earlobe. “I hope you’re not worn out, Warden. This she-beast is far from done.”
* * *
Hours later, Roux clutched his female against him. Nonconstrictive but tight. There would be no slipping from his grip.
The contentment he felt right now...the sublime satisfaction... Nothing compared. He wanted this, wanted her, every day for the rest of eternity. He’d meant what he’d said. Anyone who tried to take her from him died screaming. But.
As they lay naked together, water crashing on the shore, smoke drifting over the blackened sky, worry infiltrated his thoughts. Had Blythe made love to Roux, or Laban?
“Do we need to stay on guard for angry wraiths?” she asked with a yawn.
“No. After the door closed, the dragons rose from hibernation beneath the cavern. Penelope healed and led her wraiths against them, but the dragon fire engulfed them, their ashes raining upon the land. If the wraiths recover, I’ll be amazed.”
“Are you kidding? How is that even possible? I was only gone a few minutes.”
His arm encircled her neck. With a little rearranging, he pinched her chin and tilted her face up toward his. “You missed a lot. Someone from a village used magic to screw with the time here. Hours have passed. I would have cut a hole in the atmosphere, but I feared bringing the dragons with me. They were starved for fried Astra.”
Her eyes widened. “Hours? Is time still screwed up?” If so, what would it mean for their return trip?
“Don’t worry. I’ll get us back.” He pressed a soft kiss into her lips. “Just want to hold you a while longer. Without thinking about the task.” Or her status as the queen of Ation. That he must remove her heart with trinite, killing her, or doom his brothers-in-arms to defeat. Unless he found another way.
He’d told himself he could do so. But could he? Would he? If he failed... He could not fail.
Sweat broke out on his brow. “There’s a more pressing matter to attend to, anyway. Laban.”
“Uh, I won’t talk about the task, and you won’t bring up Laban.” She squirmed and repositioned, draping her chest over his and resting her folded arms across his pectorals. Arousal surged anew, sharper and deeper despite this first true taste of rapture. “Instead, we’ll discuss my rules. For starters, your concubine gets the boot immediately. I know you never slept with her, but I don’t care. She goes or dies, one or the other.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I like your jealousy. And I agree. She goes. In return for my capitulation in this matter, you will move into my bedroom at the palace.”
“Capitulation, huh?” She snorted. “I’ll bunk up with you, but not right away. Not until I’ve spoken to Isla.”
“Though I wish for you to speak with her at the same time I speak with the concubine—immediately—I know it will take time for the little girl to adjust to her mother moving in with the male who killed her beloved daddy.” He wanted nothing to do with adding to the child’s suffering. Wished only to protect her from further hurts.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“But whether we are living together or not, we are together. From this moment forward. Say it.”
Baby blues glittering, she smiled. “Stop bossing me around, Warden. Haven’t you heard? It’s easier to catch a harphantom with orgasms than orders?”
