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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Everyone who spotted him with the “little beastie,” as they’d begun to call her, gaped. To his complete bafflement, many of those people smiled at him, as if forgetting his awfulness.

Red noticed the attention and stiffened. “What are the peasants gawking at?” she asked Micah. “Shouldn’t they go about their business?”

Before she could demand someone beat her, he entered the shelter, keeping her draped over his shoulder. Legions seemed to throng the space. No humans or centaurs present, only fae. Some occupied long tables that were set in rows, each piled high with an assortment of treats and meats. Only one table defied the rows—the royal one. Positioned perpendicular to the other tables, it allowed the occupants to face the entire assembly.

Contrasting scents hit his awareness. The array of foods. Dirt. Soap. Sweat. Sweet wine. Yet nothing overshadowed Red’s fragrance. The citrus he’d missed for longer than he cared to admit.

He made his way toward the only empty seat in the area—a chair reserved for him, placed between Norok and Elena. Lavina occupied the seat at Norok’s other side.

The moment Micah reached the chair, Elena leaped up. So far, her spying had resulted in few nuggets of information. Kaysar and Cookie holed up in the palace with oracle Amber and nuisance Pearl Jean. Occasionally, King Jareth stayed for a week or two. The group rarely spoke of war. They played games and laughed. It was maddening.

She glared at Red’s backside before nodding a greeting at her king. “If you’ll excuse me, Majesty.”

Without waiting for his permission, she stomped off, disappearing in the crowd. He frowned, ready to call her back. In the end, he let her go. If she picked a fight with Red, his captive might revert to her hissing ways. He’d rather hear her purr again.

Micah set her on her feet, and she immediately pressed against him, as if seeking a safe shelter. His chest tightened as he helped her into her seat, then claimed the one next to her. She kept her chin high and her defenses up, challenging anyone to approach.

“Don’t mind my sister,” Norok told him, patting him on the shoulder without peering up at him. “She’s certain your little Red is nothing but destruction.” He didn’t attempt to filter his volume, his voice booming. “I, on the other hand, have decided to embrace the celebration and tolerate her presence. Anyone who distracts you enough to allow me to topple you—twice—can’t be too bad.”

Micah slung an arm around the back of Red’s chair, delightfully surprised when she leaned into him.

“One day I’m going to flay the skin from your second-in-command, just for the fun of it. See if I don’t,” she said conversationally. With an innocent smile, she popped a grape into her mouth. “The male rubs my nerves the wrong way.”

He fought another grin. “He rubs everyone’s nerves the wrong way,” he announced, causing Norok to snort. “Would you agree to let me teach you how to use a bow and arrow if we use him as the target?”

“I’ll demand you teach me,” she responded promptly. “Oh, will you, Micah? Pretty please?”

The grin broke free. “I’ll consider it.”

“As if a few arrows will stop this bird from soaring.” Smiling wide for the first time since Warren’s death, Norok patted Micah’s shoulder. “I’m undefeatable.”

The change in his second pleased him greatly. What a great day this was turning out to be. He should have enacted a feast days ago.

“By the way, there’s something changed about you.” The smile faded as Norok pursed his lips. “Did you cut your hair? No. Trim your scruff? No. Oh, what does it matter? Now that you’ve arrived, the real fun can begin.” He raised a goblet to the entire tent. “Where are my pleasure seekers? Line up, line up!”

New cheers rang out. The multitude shifted, unmated males hurrying to line up before Micah’s table, unpaired women scrambling to line up beside it. Old and young. Rich and poor. Quiet descended fast.

“Oh! Is this the execution queue?” Red asked, clapping with excitement. Her voice rang out, drawing horrified gazes her way. “If so, I’d like to offer a suggestion for its head. And its tail.”

Micah believed she meant the words in jest as much as a threat, and he had to battle another grin.

Norok snorted. “You’ll not ruin my good mood. For your information, I’m expressly forbidden from joining the fun. Apparently only unattached males may participate.”

“Unattached, you say?” She gazed at Micah with astounding curiosity. “You, the king, take no part, either?”

A burn traveled the length of his spine, radiating to his limbs. “I do not.” Hopefully she would allow the subject to drop.

“Have you ever?”

He rubbed a constricted spot on his chest. “I have.”

“Not since becoming king,” Norok piped up. He inclined against Micah’s side and popped a large grape into his mouth, mimicking Red. “Our Micah chooses not to participate anymore. Not since the eligible ladies of our village left him standing for two years in a row. Although, those lines were for marriage, rather than a single night.”


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