They peered into each other’s eyes, and he knew. They would find a way to work those miracles. The All War didn’t stand a chance, and neither did the High Council.

“I hope you’re prepared.” She ripped off her dress, revealing the body he loved beyond reason. “This treasured queen is going to rock your world.”

“You already have, love. You already have.”

Nola grinned. “Baby, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

Excerpt

Keep reading for an excerpt of

RUTHLESS

the second captivating book in the unforgettable Immortal Enemies series from New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter!

Warrior Micah the Unwilling considers his soldiers his family, and he will stop at nothing to reclaim their dispossessed land. Gearing for war with a sadistic enemy, he is disciplined and focused—until a feral beauty he encountered long ago wanders into his camp…

PROLOGUE

Astaria, the fae realm

FIVE-YEAR-OLD VIORI DE AOIBHEALL RACED to her parents’ bedchamber, frantic. A thick, overpowering odor infused the air, stinging her nostrils. Death comes…

Tears welled as she placed a bowl of fresh water on the nightstand, next to her beautiful doll, Drendall. Viori’s most beloved possession. There was no lovelier sight than Lady Drendall, with her colorful porcelain face and lacy pink gown. A treasured birthday gift from her favorite person in all the realm, her older brother, Kaysar.

Fighting for calm, Viori grabbed a clean rag from the nightstand’s top drawer. She dipped the shabby fabric into the cool liquid, uncaring when droplets splashed her dress. For weeks, her parents had suffered with “the crimson sickness.” A plague that had decimated half their village.

As pixiepetal harvesters who worked public land, Momma and Papa made little money. But that little kept their family of four fed. No money, no food. Already supplies ran low, with only a few potatoes left.

To make up for the loss, twelve-year-old Kaysar now spent the whole of his days slaving in the fields. A backbreaking job too difficult for one person. And yet, he never complained.

Agonized moans whisked her back to the present. Momma and Papa lay side by side, a sheet tangling as they thrashed. Unnatural heat radiated from them, cooking both from the inside out.

Viori swallowed a barbed lump, pasted on a smile and hurried to her father. She wrung water into his mouth, telling him, “Don’t worry, Papa. Everything will be all right.” Kaysar had promised, and he never lied.

The frail man coughed up blood.

More tears welled as she hastened to her mother. Trembling, she squeezed the rag directly over Momma’s chapped lips.

Before this, anyone who’d met Viori and her mother had called them twins. They sported the same auburn hair and green eyes. Same delicate features and golden skin. No longer. Momma’s face had become a travesty of sunken sockets and hollowed cheeks, framed by a sallow complexion.