The Wrong Bride (Kings of Fury #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Fury Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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“Who? Me?” The beautiful blond pressed a hand against her chest. “N-nay. I mean, aye. I suppose. The king has approved the courtship of a chieftain.”

Thanks to the book, I knew chieftains equalled generals within the berserker ranks. “A particular chieftain, or any?”

“Particular,” she said, her cheeks pinkening.

“Is the interest mutual?”

“I trust my king’s choice,” she muttered.

So no?

“Aunt Gavina is afraid of sentinels,” Mirren blurted out between bites. “She acts weird in front of them.”

“I’m not afraid.” Gavina gave a nervous laugh. “I’m cautious. There’s a difference.”

“If you don’t want to date the guy, don’t. Anyone who has a problem with that isn’t a king worth serving.” Truth was truth.

Gavina got real busy with her food real fast, but she couldn’t hide her horror. What?

“People gotta do what my da says or they die,” Mirren said, feeding her doll a bite of sausage. “That’s a law.”

“Good thing I’m queen. I have the power to change the rules.” I would make this immortal world a better place for Gavina and others before I abandoned ship. “From now on, no one has to date anyone they don’t want to date.”

“We’re done here.” Gavina tapped one finger on the table, a flush brightening her cheeks. Stressed by my proposed tweaks? “Time to read.”

As the servants rushed in to clear away our dishes, Mirren blurted out, “Fine. Elle can examine Skye.” She stood, put her nose in the air, and marched from the dining room with the doll cradled in her arms.

Gavina hung back, saying, “I guess I understand why you’d institute such a rule about forced dating as our king wasn’t your, uh, choice.”

“He’s not a bad guy, and feelings can change as swiftly as rules,” I found myself offering in reassurance.

“Dear me. You are gonna cause so much trouble in Clan Bruce.” Gavina swept around the table, only to pause beside me, chewing on her bottom lip. “Don’t tell, but I think I’m a wee bit excited to see the results.”

I stood with a smile, pleased. We followed the girl side by side, down the hall, through the foyer, and up the stairs.

“Has anyone heard from Callen? If he’s alright?” I asked.

Her eyes widened, the color draining from her cheeks. In a rush, she looked left, right, behind. Uh-oh. I’d made a huge blunder, hadn’t I?

Seeing no one nearby, she hooked her arm through mine and whispered, “You know sentinels and their pride. We are always to assume they are winning. Anything less is an insult to their strength and skill.”

Good to know.

We entered Mirren’s bedroom, where I discovered a large room sectioned into two parts: the bed and everything else. A massive canopy with a lacy comforter acted as the centerpiece and set upon a dais. A doll house dominated one wall: a miniature version of the castle. A gold framed portrait of Mirren’s mother hung above the mantel. Sorcha’s fragile beauty mesmerized. Delicate and joyous, she perched upon a velvet settee, draped by a flowing yellow dress. The corners of her mouth were lifted in soft amusement as she peered down over a sitting area with a cozy pink couch, plush chairs with fat blue pillows, and a coffee table scattered with books.

Mirren gently laid Skye on the bed. I approached, rolling up my sleeves, and settled on the mattress. After carefully unwrapping the bandage, revealing marker scribbles and a small square hole, I pretended to check the doll’s vitals.

The girl remained tense at my side. “Well?”

“Oh yes. I’ve seen this kind of sickness before. I just need the proper tools, and I can remove the infection.”

Mirren brightened with hope for the first time in our acquaintance, making my insides tighten. “You can save her?”

“She’ll have a scar, but she’ll live.” I spouted off a list of supplies to Gavina and sent her off to hunt everything down. Alone with Mirren, I said, “Let’s allow Skye to rest up before surgery. You can read to me as payment for my amazing services.”

She pursed her lips. “I donna want to, but I will. Da says we should always pay our debts.”

“Your dad is right.” Another reason to like him. Why, why, why did he have to belong to Isobel and kill soul switchers? “I love to read. Books let us enter whole new worlds without a spaceship.”

She snorted, but I could tell she was intrigued. After we tucked Skye into bed, we settled on the couch. Mirren selected a story about a sad unicorn hunting for happiness, cracked open the spine, and tensed. She closed her eyes for a moment and drew in a deep breath. Then, she began to read, and I understood her distress. The little darling sometimes mixed up her sounds. I also noted letter inversions and word reversals. Had anyone ever tested her for dyslexia?

For an hour, I worked with her on word structure and recognition, and she improved in some ways but not others. When frustration got the better of her, I shut the book, saying, “Alright, enough sitting. Let’s take a break and talk.”


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