Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Zepharali turned his attention away, but Lazaar couldn’t stop gazing, not even after hearing the names of his fathers and their lordships for the first time.
They were irrelevant.
His beloved stood so close that when he turned his head, his hair brushed Lazaar’s cheek.
He’d never seen hair so gorgeous.
The thick twists weren’t braids as he’d thought because each strand was unique. Some were light saffron, others were sandy with shimmering sapphire shards glistening near the ends, and the rest were the shade of rustic brass.
It was a work of art hanging over his shoulders and flowing down his back to his hip like a golden waterfall.
Lazaar’s hands trembled when he reached to touch one, desperate for a feel.
The titan’s guards shot forward in a defensive stance, but it didn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop.
Lazaar took two strands into his palm, startled at the silken texture. He ran his fingers through a tangled web of beauty, almost feeling a sense of connection to his intended. As if each fiber wove Zepharali’s life journey.
“Do you like them?” the titan rumbled.
Lazaar had been so transfixed he hadn’t realized he was being watched.
“I’ve been growing them since birth.”
He glanced up, his eyes locking on a swirling vortex of deep citron, mirroring the light of the three suns. A world of passion whispered to him in their depths, drawing him closer while time stood still.
“I like them very much, my lord.”
Lazaar was breathing hard, the robust scent of sweet blood filling his nose, his heart pumping so loud that his ears were ringing.
“Now I know all that you are, tribrid.”
Lazaar blinked through the fog.
“A dark warlock, a fire lord…” Zepharali reached one tattooed hand toward him and ran a calloused thumb along Lazaar’s bottom lip before he caressed a long fang. “And a vampire.”
Oh gods.
He waited to be shoved away, to be tossed back into the cell until the titan could figure out how to get rid of him.
Lazaar would be devastated, but he would not retaliate. Instead, he’d plead for mercy, for death.
“A revered man with a great destiny would come to me boldly, and my heart would answer,” Zepharali whispered.
Lazaar didn’t know what that meant, but he liked the sound of it.
“Now I know why Orestes sent you to me.” Zepharali gave him a seductive smile that lit a fire in his groin. “A beloved. One who will love me more than my heart can receive.”
“Father…is this…”
“Yes, Dorema. He is my prophecy fulfilled.”
The guards broke formation, hugging each other and cheering so loud it startled him.
“What’s—” Lazaar looked to his guardian, who nodded at him as if he were proud.
“Daughters.” Zepharali smoothed his hand over Lazaar’s filthy hair, unfazed by the greasiness. “Take him to my quarters. See that every attendant in my palace aids you in caring for him. I want him bathed and catered to like a god.”
“Yes, Father!”
The daughter with the gold bands over her armor was beaming with pretty, white teeth when she gripped Lazaar by his wrists and pulled him away.
He tugged against her grasp. But I wanna go with him.
Zepharali must’ve seen the panic on his face.
“You’re safe, and don’t fret, my prince. You won’t be out of my sight for long.”
“I’ll see that his sentinel and phoenix remain with him.”
“Thank you, Dorema.”
Zepharali kissed each daughter on the cheek as they walked by.
Dorema seemed to remember something when she spun and asked, “And what should we have the galley attendants prepare for his meal?”
Zepharali looked at him. His smoldering eyes conveyed a silent message that made the air around them crackle and spark with fire.
“Nothing.” His titan winked before he turned and walked away with the six guards he’d arrived with.
The tough females who’d locked him in the cell were no longer an intimidating legion. They released jovial laughs while they tugged on him as if he were their new favorite toy.
He was dragged down a long corridor and was almost at the exit when a faint drift of warm, summer-scented air caressed his cheek.
A deep, melodic voice whispered a secret in his ear.
“I will be your meal this eve, beloved.”
Lazaar’s knees went weak.
Zepharali
Zepharali was on his knees in the village cathedral, praying to the goddess of love, passion, and sexuality for answering his pleas for true love. For a partner who would never leave and abandon him for another.
His head was bowed and his eyes closed when he felt a spiritual presence behind him. He didn’t turn around, already knowing who it was.
“Why are you here and not with your blessing?”
Zepharali sighed. “Yes, he’s been sent…but I’m praying to keep him.”
“Have faith in your winds, my lord.”
“I always have, and I’ve always ended up alone.”
His oracle touched him on his cheek, sending a hint of confidence to his core.
“Lord. Rise off your knees and go to your beloved. He eagerly awaits you.”