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)
No, no, no! Neeka knew what came next, despite the many alterations. Small differences that led to the same result.
I’ll teach her a lesson. “Cut out his tongue,” Lore commanded Azar.
That.
The Astra straightened, unsheathed a dagger and stomped over. Hades readied for battle.
“Stop Azar,” Neeka shouted, the words flying from her host’s mouth.
The Astra stopped. Another change. This one emboldened Neeka.
“Shut up,” Lore repeated.
“You shut up,” Neeka retorted, and again, she hijacked their voice.
“Azar! Do it!”
“Azar, stop!”
Okay, these differences weren’t so small. Neeka could win this!
Lore flashed in front of Rathbone and unsheathed a blade. Hades stood down, allowing the goddess to strike before Neeka registered that she’d moved. Rathbone’s tongue plopped to the floor.
Hades glanced at his nephew, saying, “Told you.”
“That’s better,” Lore said as Neeka shrieked. Except, Rathbone didn’t seem to notice the wound. As blood poured from his mouth, he smiled. It unnerved Lore, who shuddered.
Neeka calmed, her heart swelling. This was a romantic gesture if ever she’d seen one! He was telling her how much he adored and trusted her. How much he believed in her. She tumbled straight into love. Totally, completely, utterly.
Lore centered and returned to the throne, where she licked the blade and cast it to the floor. “To keep things interesting, I’ll wait to run out the clock before I continue, assuring your defeat. We have, what? Two minutes remaining?”
“Marvelous. Marvelous indeed.” Erebus started clapping. He looked around, asking, “Shall we proclaim me the winner yet?”
No response from the opposing team. Neeka prepared for the war of her life, gearing up.
“Azar,” Lore snapped, sensing her intentions and needing a distraction.
He flashed to her side, wrenching a new round of shock from his brethren.
“I’m already bored, and you owe me a kiss,” the goddess announced. “Give it to me.”
A vein bulged in his forehead. “It didn’t have to be this way,” he grated, shooting out his hand and clasped the back of her nape. His grip was firm, but his fingers shook.
She narrowed her eyes, too, a cauldron of emotions bubbling over. Hints of trepidation, longing, and anger. “You have your orders.”
He yanked Lore close for a kiss. His palm burned her flesh. As Lore returned his passion, her resolve weakened, and Neeka strengthened. One minute remained on the clock. Now or never. She seized her chance.
“Kill me,” she commanded Azar, the words echoing from the throne room walls.
Silence. Then chaos. “No!” Rathbone shouted, his denial gutting her. Had to be this way. “Don’t you dare.”
Lore grappled for control. “Do me no harm.”
“Kill me,” Neeka repeated as Rathbone’s curses and threats intensified. Seconds ticked away.
Azar reared back and shook his head. His defenses toppled, nothing shielding the lust in his expression. “I don’t want to do it.”
Lore attempted to gain control again, but again, she was weakening. Neeka drew from her bubbling well of love and waged the final battle. “Ready your sword, soldier,” she shouted at Azar. “Take my head, then my heart. Separate my bones. Do whatever is necessary to ensure I never rise again. Do it now!”
Groaning, Lore covered her lips with her hand. But it was too late. Neeka retained the helm as Azar lifted his sword. He was fighting the compulsion but losing.
“I will bring you back,” Rathbone vowed.
She raised her chin, calling, “I love you, too, Red.” As Lore contended for dominance, Neeka dropped to her knees. “Do it, Azar.”
The midnight hour rang out.
He swung the sword. Whoosh. Darkness came, bringing silence. Neeka died, taking Lore with her.
* * *
Rathbone watched as his female lost her head, then her heart. A ragged roar escaped him. Erebus cursed louder. He’d lost this round.
The Astra and harpies cheered. They’d won without lifting a finger.
Hades removed the chains Rathbone had failed to shed on his own. He sprang over and collected Lore’s headless body. Neeka’s shell. Tears welled as the General rushed over to crouch beside him.
His oracle was gone. His fated. The one he couldn’t live without. But not for long.
“Get me a chisel,” he commanded the General. He would bind Neeka’s spirit to the bones. He just needed time to figure out a better plan.
“On it.” She vanished in a puff of smoke, and from his post, Hades groaned.
“Have you learned nothing?” the god called.
Wait. Why was the body so hot? Rathbone frowned. His skin blistered. Flames erupted from Neeka’s—Lore’s pores. He released her and eased back. The inferno spread, burning away the body... Dark smoke collected around the bones, creating a curtain.
Rathbone waited, daring to hope. His oracle was very good at pre-planning. Taliyah arrived with the desired item as the fire died and the curtain thinned...
He sagged with relief. A naked, smoldering Neeka stirred and stretched, as if waking from a peaceful nap. With a grunt, he scooped her up and yanked her against his chest.
“You’re alive,” he said, pulling back just enough to let her read his lips. “And you are fully Phoenix apparently, after only four doses of the toxin.”