Awakening The Warlord: My Genius Wife

nne

Low Marches. Outside the narrow curtain, the radiant brilliance of the World Tree dimmed with every hun

with white knuckles, her anxious gaze darting toward the twi

n filled with Verdant Draught. "We are still far abov

ith shaking hands,

observer, I appeared completely exhausted from the journey. In truth, my entire focus was dia

microscopic toxin I had planted direct

an inexplicable surge of ancestral pressure. She had been so consumed by terror when my fingers clamped onto h

ible biological catalyst. It was harmless on its own, designed to remain completely inert until the e

gether by fraudulent herbal perfumes, was an

um

d from the golden rune beneat

ovement of the sun outside, the auspicious

violent shudder that echoed down my bloodline was unmistakabl

he holy metal would have rejected her like a foreign contagion. The backlash would rip str

into a cold,

e sister. You wanted th

eaches-the turbulent frontier tier suspended between two hundred and five hundred feet. Merc

When she dashed back to the cart, her face was completely

coming down from the High Court!" she whispered, practic

al scalpel with a linen rag, glancing up

e with unbridled glee. "The couriers and caravan guards at the well are talking of nothing else! They sa

feigning mild cur

nse!" Tessa leaned closer, her voice trembling with satisfaction. "The spiritual explosion burned her fingers to the bone, and the sacred fire

solute: fraud against an ancestral oath

back into its leather roll. "How did our glorious Warlord

y! He dragged her out of the bridal suite by her hair that very night and locked her in the servant quarters! And to spi

gates before midnight to beg for leniency, but the guards dumped dishwater over his b

eath, tying the leather la

otic combat spirit relied entirely on the pure, cooling resonance of a true mate's Soothing-his spiritu

ice clipped. "Sit down and finish your water. Their downfall is th

d at once, n

agged trunk into perpetual dusk. The air turned bone-chillingly co

ay, the Thorn Verge finally

s, the massive frontier fortress looked less like an elven stronghold

n gates, where armored sentries wearing crude,

es the border?" a s

aring the Great Council's crimson seal. "Dionne, formerly of

ray, his hard face flickering with

gates!"

he cart rolled inside, revealing muddy courtyards lined with hollow-e

gray steward's robe strode out from the inner keep. Her cold, sunken eyes raked o

hering to offer even the most perfunctory bow. "The High Lord is