Ruthless – Immortal Enemies Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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“I’ll tell you once you finish.”

“Please. You’ll be too tongue-tied to speak.” Head high, she glided from behind the screen.

Tongue-tied? Yes. Wonder snatched the air from his lungs. Light adored every inch of her, highlighting the perfection of her golden skin. Those jade eyes were softer, too, while her freckles were more pronounced. Her dark red hair hung in glistening waves, framing a curvy body now draped in vivid blue studded with sapphire and diamond chips. The blade hung at her waist.

Say something. Anything. “Beautiful,” he blurted out, and his cheeks flushed.

Her cheeks flushed, too, but not in embarrassment. No, she evinced delight as she held out the flowing skirt and issued a proper bow. “You really think so? You aren’t pretending?”

He fought an unexpected grin. “I’m not pretending.” Must she always be so adorable? But oh, this softer side...devastating.

Dangerous.

As if struck by sudden vulnerability of her own, she shifted from side to side and patted the fabric of her gown. “To bestow upon me a garment such as this means one of two things. You value me...or you enjoy dressing me up.”

“It cannot be both?”

An almost smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Are you often gruff and dismissive with those you value?”

“Now who’s complaining about special treatment?” He pulled at the neckline of his tunic, then held out his arm. “Shall we?”

For the first time, she accepted his touch. “Don’t forget you promised to explain what’s so special about today. Then I get to inspect you the way you inspected me. Actually, let’s switch the order and start with the examination.” Her eyes slid over him. Voice thickening, she told him, “You are...delicious.”

His eyes practically popped out. He was delicious? Him? Hot blood deserted his head, flowing south fast.

Leaving him reeling, she glided past and stopped at the table, where they usually ate their morning meal together. Or rather, where she usually ate the morning meal and he devoured her with his eyes.

“No breakfast?” she asked with a pout, making his blood burn hotter.

“Not here. This is a special occasion. The Feast of Remembering. We’ll eat each of our meals with the people.” Dusklanders prized their traditions. “There will be no training, only celebrating.”

“A feast. Of remembering?” Her brow wrinkled. “Never heard of it.”

“It is a sacred time when we wipe any obstacles from our minds, reminding ourselves that we are fae, and we can do anything.”

“Okay, but obstacles to what?”

He leveled his shoulders. “To the things we want most.”

“So...you celebrate your victories before you actually achieve your victories?”

“Exactly right.” Long ago, during his first year as king, he had learned a hard but valuable lesson. Excuses were merely fears dressed up in a pretty package. When you looked beyond them, the answers to your questions became oh, so clear. What you desired most. The life and future you craved. “We look back and see what fear has stolen from us, then do our best to return to our destined course.”

“I see.”

Why did she project such sadness? What had she lost? The family she still refused to discuss?

“No obstacles. Destined course,” she echoed. “Hmm.” Growing pensive, she scanned the dwelling, as if seeing it for the first time. Or searching for answers she’d lost forever ago.

“What do you long for most?” he asked.

Panic bloomed over her expression. “Oh, I...”

Music and cheers sounded in the distance. Deciding to take pity on her, he extended his arm once again. “Never mind. Forget I asked. Let’s go have our breakfast with the people.”

“Yes. Let’s.” A half smile teased the corner of her mouth as she reached for him. Then she frowned and drew back. “Um, I think I’d rather stay here. You may bring me food, however.”

He’d noticed her aversion to assemblies greater than two. But in this, he declined to relent. No excuses, no fears. Rather than tug her along while she dragged her feet, Micah bent, pressed his shoulder against her middle and lifted. Her body draped over his.

“You dare to haul me like a sack of potatoes?” she demanded with shock and...amusement? “The indignity!”

He entered the cool of the bright morning, a deserted campsite greeting him. Everyone congregated in the common area, feasting. He expected protests to follow Vee’s question. A giggle escaped her instead. A giggle that reminded him of a purr. The most enchanting sound he’d ever heard.

Micah nearly tripped over his own feet. Then his chest puffed with pride, feeling as if he’d conquered a thousand enemies. He, the king who made others yearn to peel the skin from their bones, had made a beautiful feral kitten purr.

“It was either this or I flittered you,” he teased, “and we both know you prefer to walk.”

“You are so lucky I love my gown too much to unleash my rage.”

Merry, fast-paced music spilled from the seams of an overcrowded area. People clustered around the perimeter of the largest tent, drinking, talking, laughing. Enjoying life, as they should.


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