Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes. Gena Showalter

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Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes - Gena Showalter

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redhead’s shoulders drooped, and guilt pricked at him. He should have explained his intensions before he’d bedded the human. Should have made sure they wanted the same thing: momentary pleasure.

      “Valerian.” Joachim’s voice rang out. “I’ve waited long enough.”

      Everyone in the arena stopped speaking.

      “Then by all means,” Valerian replied. Time to push Shaye from his thoughts. “Let’s hurry your execution along.”

      He faced his opponent. Joachim stood in the center of the sandy arena, swinging a spear overhead to loosen his muscles. The metal whistled and zinged, like a war cry. In his other hand, he held a silver shield, two wings embossed on each side. A sword was sheathed in the center.

      Joachim slid his helmet in place, his armor glinting in the light.

      Valerian held his hand out, and Broderick slapped a spear into his grip. He felt its familiar weight and nodded.

      Next Broderick handed him a shield of his own.

      In the center rested the Skull. With it, Joachim would die, guaranteed. What Valerian had thought he wanted only seconds ago. Faced with such an inevitable outcome, his fury wrestled with uncertainty.

      He returned the shield. “Replace the Skull with one of my training blades.”

      “My lord.” Broderick gaped at him. “You’ve never—”

      “Do it.” Joachim could be killed any day. But if he died today, Valerian could never bring him back.

      As his cousin had pronounced earlier, they had been friends as children. The best of friends. Only when Poseidon had given Valerian’s father the crown had Joachim’s resentment sprouted.

      Under normal circumstances, Joachim would have been the chosen, continuing the line. Eldest son to eldest son. As young as he’d been—as sickly as he’d once been—Valerian’s father had been the better choice.

      Joachim believed Valerian had stolen his legacy, and he wasn’t wrong. But now, looking back, Valerian wondered if the sea god had known what he hadn’t. Joachim would have destroyed the nymphs.

      If Poseidon had even visited once since the coronation, perhaps this could have been avoided. But the male had forgotten them.

      “Any sword will do,” he added.

      A pause before the shield was taken out of his hand. Footsteps rang out. A few seconds later, the cool press of the shield’s handle weighed in his grip. A sharp-tipped blade now rested in the center. He nodded in approval.

      “Your helmet, my king,” Broderick said.

      “No.” He kept his gaze on Joachim. “Not this time.”

      Broderick frowned. “What of your other armor?”

      “No.”

      Valerian hefted his spear in one hand, his shield in the other, and stepped into the arena.

      “Shall we begin?”

      “We shall.”

      Determined, he circled Joachim. “You will forever be an example of what happens to those who challenge my rule.”

      “Is this the part where I taunt you back?” Joachim continued to swing his spear.

      “I’d hoped it would be the part where you listened to reason. You are too war-happy to be king.”

      Eyes narrowing, his cousin said, “Such a quality should be lauded.”

      “Lauded? When the hunger will never be appeased? In the end, you might conquer all of Atlantis, but you will also destroy the entire city.”

      “Better to rule a decimated land than no land at all.”

      “That. That is why you are unfit. You don’t see the foolishness of your words.”

      “I’m no fool!” With a roar, Joachim leaped at him. Valerian met him halfway. He’d told Shaye he would handle this quickly, and he would.

      Their spears clashed together midair. Immediately Valerian countered, ducking low, pivoting and slashing. He missed as Joachim sliced to the side. Clang. Their spears met again. In the next instant, Joachim raised his lance and Valerian rammed it high. He spun, aiming for his cousin’s neck.

      Joachim darted out of the way with a grin. “Getting slow, Valerian.” He removed his helmet and tossed it aside.

      Valerian stabbed forward, his spike and shield swinging simultaneously. Joachim quickly lost his smile as he was forced to duck. He stumbled backward. Valerian’s spear nearly sank into his stomach, but Joachim blocked, swung. Thrust.

      That low thrust grazed Valerian’s thigh, slicing cloth rather than skin. Valerian dropped to one knee, absorbing the next blow with his shield. When he regained his footing, he lunged forward. The tip of his weapon whizzed past Joachim’s side, taking a hunk of armor with it.

      “Still think I’m slow?” Valerian asked.

      Their fiery gazes met, blue against bluer, and Joachim scowled. He swung to the left, missed, then swung to the right. As the lance dipped toward the ground, Valerian leaped over its middle, trapping it between his legs and jamming his elbow into Joachim’s nose. Blood squirted and Joachim howled as he tripped, falling away from striking distance and flinging dirt in every direction.

      “Get up,” Valerian commanded.

      “You’ll pay for that.” His cousin jumped to his feet and ran straight at him, continuously stabbing forward.

      Valerian circled on swift feet, his shield blocking. His muscles began to burn, and sweat began to run down his face and chest in rivulets. Already his breath emerged in shallow pants. At this rate, his strength would be rapidly depleted. Lack of sex did that to a nymph.

      Looking tired himself, Joachim arched high, intending to puncture his shoulder on the downward swing, but Valerian hit Joachim’s wrist and his cousin dropped the spear. At a disadvantage, Joachim dived, rolled and reached for it. His fingers closed around the middle. Maintaining a fluid pace, he spun back to his feet. But Valerian was already there, stomping on the lance and snapping it in two.

      Growling low in his throat, Joachim kicked up. His foot slammed into Valerian’s wrist and Valerian, too, lost his spear. Both men sprang apart, unsheathing the swords centered in their shields.

      As blood continued to drip down his face, Joachim launched forward, wildly swinging. Air whistled, zinged, just like it had before the battle began. Movements slower than normal, Valerian didn’t duck in time. The blade sliced his forearm. He felt the sting of it, the burn of torn flesh.

      He didn’t give a reaction, didn’t allow it to slow him further.

      He stabbed low, then up, twisting before Joachim could counter. The tip of his sword whizzed by his cousin’s face, and the man paled. He raised his shield and slammed it into Valerian’s other arm, the sharp wings cutting skin. Valerian used the momentum to spin and slice into Joachim’s thigh.

      His

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