Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Harpies catcalled and offered lewd suggestions. Who cared about a crowd of witnesses when you had two hundred and fifty pounds of man-candy ready to be unwrapped and devoured? Besides, Blythe had been desperate to kiss him ever since he’d suggested they spend the day shopping for anything and everything her heart desired.
Frenzied for her, he pushed her up against the window display. How she loved this male. From the very beginning, he had addicted her. She required him. Like any harpy consort, he calmed the worst of her tempers, healed her deepest wounds with his blood, and roused her most insatiable lusts. But their connection went far deeper than that. Any time apart proved painful, body and soul.
“Momma! Daddy!”
The familiar voice rang out, and Blythe and Laban ended the kiss in an instant. They both panted as they shared a wry grin. She eased from her mate just in time to catch Hurricane Isla in her arms.
“Hey, baby.” She kissed the tip of her daughter’s nose. “Aren’t you supposed to be school shopping with your classmates, learning how to distract shopkeepers and steal from stores as a unit?”
“Yep.”
When the little darling offered nothing more, Blythe cut off a laugh. Oh, how she adored this precious bundle of energy and optimism. A miniature version of herself. Same sleek black hair. Same skin tone. Same light blue eyes. Well, one light blue iris for Isla; the other was a rich brown identical to Laban’s.
The girl toyed with the neckline of Blythe’s favorite T-shirt, twisting the material between her fingers. “Want to see what I stole all by myself?”
Do not smile. “I do.” Her darling had always excelled at thievery. She was almost as good at it as drawing. Well, the drawing of locks and keys, anyway, and only locks and keys. Isla’s obsession. Each month, she auctioned off the artwork to family members, forcing them to pay up or destroy her feelings. It was a constant source of amusement for Blythe.
Brimming with excitement, the seven-year-old whipped a small, bejeweled dagger from the waist of her pants. A dramatic, adorable ta-da! moment.
Pride puffed Blythe’s chest. Everyone agreed: if you didn’t guard your goods, you didn’t deserve to keep them.
Well, everyone but Laban agreed. He frowned. “We talked about this, mini B.” The nickname he used when Isla skirted trouble. He swiped the blade from the wee one’s grip. “You are to avoid battles of every kind. That means you have no need of weapons.”
A stinging retort brewed on the back of Blythe’s tongue, and she barely managed to tame it. This. This was her main point of contention with her beloved consort. His unnatural fear that mother and child were destined to be harmed irreparably.
Blythe understood the reason. He hailed from a patriarchal society where males were warriors and females were fragile. Laban expected his girls to eschew danger, not seek it. A frustrating viewpoint to overcome for any combat-hungry harpy. Meaning, any harpy ever born. Blythe more so than most. Before meeting the love of her life, she’d lived for the challenge of battle and the high of victory.
On the other hand, Laban had given up his expectation of eternal pampering to be with her. Harpies just didn’t play that way. And he’d come so far over the years. In the beginning, he could barely leave the house without engulfing both Blythe and Isla in some kind of bubble wrapping. Now, at least, he didn’t flinch or even intervene if Blythe got mouthy with another harpy.
On the other, other hand, she’d given up just as much to be with him. After centuries of blood, sweat, and toil, she had surrendered her dream of becoming harpy General. Harpina’s version of queen. This, after earning nine of the ten stars required for the role.
Those stars still decorated her wrist. Permanent tattoos meant permanent reminders. From potential leader of the entire population to a partner and mother. A change she’d never regretted. But a little more understanding on his part would go a long way.
Isla’s shoulders rolled in, and her bottom lip rolled out. “But, Daddy. Martha and Pepper already have a full arsenal. Lulu even got a flame thrower for her birthday.”
“We’ll discuss the dagger when you get home from school, honey.” After Mommy made Daddy forget his irrational fear. And his own name.
Scowling, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve already rendered my final verdict.”
“Un-render it.” Blythe blew him a kiss with her middle finger.
“Yeah, Daddy,” Isla said, revitalized. “Un-render it.”
He pursed his lips, saying nothing. But he also softened.
Blythe kissed her daughter’s cheek, then set the darling tyke on her feet. “Return to class. Miss Eagleshield is probably worried about you and beating up innocent bystanders for information.”
“Oh! I’ll help. I’ll demand they tell me where I am, and practice using my fists of fury when they answer. Okay, love you, bye!” Isla geared to rush off, but the ground shook hard, stopping her.