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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He was up and out of bed in a trice, his sword, which always rested against his night table, in his hand, his pulse spiking, his skin tightening.

“By the gods, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He was scanning the room by the dim light coming from the fireplace, his heart now racing, searching for a threat.

He flinched when he felt her hand on his back and heard her soothing voice.

“True, all is well. It’s just fine. I’m so so sorry. I just woke you because…look, caro. To the window.”

Noting no one was in the room but them, he drew in a deep breath and turned his head to the window.

Around the drapes, green light was dancing.

“I think the skies have cooperated,” she finished.

He strode over to the window and peered around the side of the curtain.

There were trees in the way, but it couldn’t be hidden.

The Lights were dancing.

He turned to his betrothed.

“You’re right,” he shared. “Hurry, my love. Dress. Let us go.”

She was out of bed almost as quickly as he’d left it moments ago.

“Dress warm,” he warned.

“I’ve no other choice. All my gowns weigh twenty pounds,” she replied from behind the screen.

This was an utter lie.

He still smiled.

As had become their way, he dressed in the room, she behind the screen.

She came out when she needed him to tighten her laces, something he did.

They then both sat on the bed, side by side, to put on their boots.

He helped her with her cloak before he swung on his mantle.

She was pulling on her gloves as they moved into the hall.

He immediately started toward Alfie’s room.

She caught his arm.

He looked down at her.

“Just us,” she whispered.

“Farah—”

“Please, witnessing this magic?” she beseeched. “Just us, True.”

He looked into her topaz eyes.

He then gave in.

He guided her to the stairs, down them, and through the still-crowded pub, both of them calling greetings as they went.

He flipped a silver coin to the stable boy, which was so far above the boy’s normal token, his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he caught it.

It was nowhere near the worth of gold, but it’d likely keep his family fed for a week.

“Just the prince’s steed, please,” Farah called after him then looked up at True. “I’d like to ride with you. It would be warmer.”

It would be hell, her arse in his crotch for five miles.

He thought this.

He said, “If that is your wish, sweets.”

When the boy had brought a saddled Majesty, True swung up and then leaned low to the side to catch Farah about the waist and pull her up before him.

He dipped his chin when the boy gave a bow, then he clicked his teeth, dug the heels of his boots into the sides of his mount, and they galloped out of the stables.

Majesty’s hooves clattered on the cobbles as the wind blew Farah’s soft hair in his face, its fragrance stirring him deeply.

To combat that, he bent into her, pressing his cheek against the side of her head.

They left the village and took the winding path that led up the wooded hill, and it seemed with every strike of Majesty’s hooves, the air lit more brightly about them.

They were but a mile away when he heard Farah’s joyous laugh.

“What is funny?” he asked in her ear.

“Nothing,” she answered, turning her head and catching his eye, also catching his heart with the joy he saw in hers. “Nothing. It’s just so beautiful, I cannot process it. All I can do is laugh.”

She looked forward and tipped her head back to better see the streaks of lights that could be seen through the tops of the trees, swirling in the sky.

They were making the clearing when the lights that came from the magic of the sprites could be seen in the trees, globes glowing golden as the very air around them turned hues of pink, green, violet and blue, these last the hues that swirled in the night sky.

“By the gods, True, by the gods,” Farah chanted before musical laughter erupted from her. “It is impossible!” she cried. “Such beauty.”

True couldn’t stop himself smiling as they made the top of the rise, the trees glowing, the skies glowing, the air glowing.

He had seen it several times before.

But gazing at it now with Farah in his arms, somehow it felt as if it was the first time he experienced the enormity of the beauty.

He also saw, with gratitude, that although the rise under the Lights could get crowded with onlookers, tonight there were only a few.

But the sprites were zinging here and there, holding court, showing off, their glistening wings that were bigger than their bodies sometimes the only thing to be seen.

He’d barely reined in Majesty when he lost hold of Farah as she slid off.

True dismounted only to see her head tipped all the way back and she was whirling, arms out, like a dance, but not.



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