The Plan Commences Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
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“Will you at least allow a servant to pack your bags?” he requested.

“Yes, True.”

“We’ll take a pack horse so bring what you wish,” he told her.

“I will.”

“We’ll take two horses if they’re needed.”

“All right, True.”

“And we’ll get another, if you see things you wish to purchase on our journey.”

“True?”

He looked down at her. “Yes, my sweet?”

She grinned up at him and put her hand to his stomach. “Stop being so marvelous.”

And all of a sudden, he was no longer angry.

He bent to kiss the top of her fragrant hair, pulled away, and replied, “Never.”

Her eyes grew brilliant as yellow diamonds.

They weren’t exactly happy.

But they were not unhappy.

He’d take it.

For now.

He led them into their tent.

50

The Formidables

Queen Silence

Fifty Miles Inside the Southern Border

WODELL

One could say—after last night and his continued highhandedness at breakfast—I was not happy with my husband.

However, I was unhappier as he stalked (yes, stalked) me to our tent after breakfast.

It was entirely undignified, but he was so tall, his legs so long, in the end I was practically running to get to the tent before he did.

However, once I arrived, I realized I had not thought matters through for he was stalking me, which meant when I was inside, he was inside right behind me.

And I needed to get away from him.

Or I’d scream.

Unfastening the frog at my neck, I twirled my cloak from my shoulders, tossed it to some cushions in a manner I hoped appeared rather dramatic, and whirled on him remembering every detail of the night before. And in doing so remembering he’d told me if I wanted something, I should tell my husband.

Therefore, I told my husband what I wanted.

Lifting my chin, I declared, “If you wouldn’t mind, my king, I would like a little alone time to rest my eyes prior to taking a wander with Elena and Farah.”

“You ran from me.”

“What?”

“You ran from me.”

My frame jerked as I belatedly caught the look on his face.

No.

The look in his eyes.

They were aflame.

Literally.

Tiny blazes danced in his eyes.

I knew what that meant.

Oh faith.

“I didn’t run,” I told him with more bravado than bravery, also openly lying since I did just that. “I simply made my way back to the tent…quickly.”

“I thought we learned a lesson last night, Silence,” he said quietly.

And I was glad he did.

So very glad.

For if any fear was striking my heart, the reminder of that wiped it away.

“We most assuredly did,” I snapped.

He took two steps toward me which, with the wideness of his gait, placed him right before me.

He then lifted his hand as if to cup my face.

Which made me wrench it away so he would not touch me.

I was about to move bodily from him when he caught me with both hands on my jaw, his movements so swift, from such a large man, it was astonishing.

It was then I was on the verge of pulling away when I felt it.

Not his touch.

The atmosphere of the tent.

It was oppressive.

Not with heat.

With air so heavy, it felt suffocating.

I lifted my eyes to his and all my breath left me at what I saw.

“Suffice it to say,” he started in a sinister whisper, “if I do not wish you to run from me, if I do not wish you to avoid me, I absolutely do not wish you to evade my touch.”

I should fear him. He could break me in two.

And from what I’d witnessed from him, if given reason, he would.

But in that moment, I didn’t fear him.

My eyes might not be afire, but my blood was for who was he to tell me I could not run?

And if his touch was unwanted, who was he to tell me I could not deny it?

“After last night,” I began bitingly, “I never want you to touch me again.”

His brows rose in studied nonchalance. “No?”

“No,” I spat.

“Shall we test this assertion, my Silence?” he asked.

“No,” I denied. “You shall take your hands off me immediately.”

“Mm,” he hummed.

Then he released me.

I didn’t have time to let out the breath I was holding, for in the blink of an eye, I was up, and in but three of Mars’s mighty strides, I was down on the mattress with my husband on top of me.

He could not be believed!

With a great heave, I arched my back to displace him and opened my mouth to shout, only for him to claim it with his own, gliding in his studded tongue.

Of a sudden, I collapsed under him and felt like weeping.

His taste was nectar. His weight was heaven.

I tore my mouth from his, turning my head away.

His hand spanned the side of my face to pull me back, but I said, “If you do this, I’ll never forgive you. If you force yourself on me, my king, there will be no coming back.”

The atmosphere of the room lightened to such an extreme, it felt like the tent around us was falling to the earth.


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