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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She fell silent.

“Do I have your vow you will not act so foolishly again?” he pressed.

“I will not act so foolishly again, Mars.”

He did not like her tone. The rote manner in which her words came.

Not as if she did not mean them.

As if it meant nothing to her saying them, even if in saying them they meant a good deal to him to know his bride would keep herself safe.

In response to this, Mars pulled her closer and whispered, “There is a great change in you, mia bellezza.”

“I’m bloodied, tired, Sofia is lost, she was a kind soul who touched mine too short of a time, yesterday was long, this night longer, and thus this day looms longest of all.”

“And we will be wed at the end of it.”

“Of course,” she said, as if he’d told her they would sup together at the end of it.

He decided not to address that.

“And I have lost a woman I have known the whole of my life who means a great deal to me.”

It was that which moved her.

She lifted a hand to his jaw, her face softening, and she said gently, “I’m so sorry, Mars.”

He studied her, noted the softening of her face set the silver of her eyes to a liquid and that made him turn his head and kiss the skin of her palm.

When he turned back, he shared, “It is with darkness in my heart that the first official occasion you will stand at my side as my queen that is not our wedding will be the funeral of the woman who helped raise me. But we will give her the rite she deserved as to her place in this palace, her place in my father’s heart and her place in mine.”

“It will be with a sad heart, but still my honor to stand at your side for that, my king,”

And that was his Silence.

Mars dipped to touch his mouth to hers.

When he pulled back, he asked, “You are sure you wish to attend the procession?”

Silence nodded.

“If you need to leave, I will have you escorted back.”

“That will not happen.”

“You do not have to become my mother in one day, Silence.”

“Yes, I do, Mars.”

Mars studied her again.

Yes, this was his Silence.

And by the gods, she pleased him.

Every day, in new ways, this came more and more.

She was correct. Yesterday had been eventful, that night fraught, and there was much happening that day.

Perhaps she was conserving energy to endure it.

This was wise.

This was Silence.

He should not be concerned. His bride was clever. He knew that already.

She simply continued to prove it.

He stood, holding her to him as he did.

He only let one part of her go when he was on his feet.

After her legs swung toward the floor, he held her close, her toes brushing the tops of his feet.

“Then let us get this done,” he muttered.

His bride nodded.

Mars then put her on her feet, took her hand, tucked it to his chest, and moved them to the door.

He would ride to the pits barefoot and bare-chested.

She would ride before him on his mount, barefoot, bloodied, but entirely intact, healthy and resplendent in their victory.

And his people would see, much more than any fetching red dress could show them, the great strength and trueness of the woman who would very soon be their queen.

G’Seph

Catacombs, Go’Doan Temple, Fire City

FIRENZE

In a rage, G’Seph sent the clay pots flying.

They crashed against the empty sepulchers of the walls, carved out and waiting to bear the shrouded bones of dead priests, the ash of the spent incense in the pots dusting the air.

“How could it bloody fail?” he screeched.

“My liege,” one of the men behind him murmured.

Seph turned, doing it lifting his arm and backhanding the soldier. As the man’s head jerked to the side, Seph neared him, putting his hands on his shoulders and lifting his knee covered in the dark robes of The Rising and catching the soldier sharply in his groin.

The man’s hands went to his crotch, he bent forth and coughed.

Seph cuffed him again with full fist on the side of his head and the man went down to a hip.

It was then, he kicked him with his sandaled foot right in his face.

Seph stepped back, staring at the cut that had opened up on the man’s cheekbone that was oozing blood and he did this breathing heavily.

No other soldier dared to speak.

G’Seph looked to one of his other lieutenants. “Were any taken alive?”

His lieutenant did not answer his question.

And yet he did.

He advised, “We must flee the city, my liege.”

“How did this happen?” Seph hissed. “They had few guards. Our men outnumbered them ten to one at least. And our squad were all bloody Firenz. They’re beasts!”

“We…we don’t…we don’t know, sir,” his lieutenant stammered.

“Word is spreading through the city,” Seph spat. “Those men didn’t even manage to kill the Dellish waif. She can’t weigh fifty kilos! How can she best a one hundred and fifteen kilo Firenz? How the bloody hell can she best one hundred of them?”



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