The Brute and the Blade by Allegra Rose EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Allegra Rose
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Lily
The sun’s first rays paint the battle-scarred Borderlands in a grim, russet
light as I finish strapping on my armor. My fingers fly through the familiar
motions, tightening buckles and adjusting my sword belt with practiced
ease, even as my heart pounds a war drum in my chest. Around me, my
fellow soldiers ready themselves in grim silence, our shared tension
palpable in the chill morning air.
I draw my sword and test its weight and balance with a few swift
swings, the whisper of the blade slicing through air an ominous prelude to
the violence to come. Satisfied, I sheath it and turn to face my troops.
“This is it,” I say, my voice steady and strong, belying the nerves
thrumming through my veins. “Today, we hold the line against the ogre
horde. We fight for our homes, for our kingdom. For Thornhall!”
A resounding cheer echoes back to me, a defiant roar in the face of the
oncoming storm. With a final nod, I turn and lead the charge across the
blood-soaked earth, toward the line of monstrous figures that materialize
from the early morning mist.
The ogres thunder forward to meet us, shaking the ground with each
massive stride. At their head, I catch sight of a towering figure, his stony
grey skin marked with whorls of red war paint.
Warlord Grok.
Our eyes lock across the narrowing gap between our forces, a searing,
electric connection that sends a shiver down my spine even as my grip
tightens on my sword hilt.
And then, with a bone-shaking crash, our armies collide.
The world dissolves into the chaos of battle, a whirlwind of clashing
steel, war cries and the coppery scent of spilled blood. I weave through the
fray, my blade a silver blur as I parry and slash, dancing the deadly steps of
a dance I’ve trained for all my life. Ogres fall before me, felled by precise
strikes to unguarded throats and pierced hearts, but always there are more to
take their place, an unending tide of brutal strength.
I lose myself to the familiar, furious rhythm of combat, trusting my
instincts and training to guide me. Time seems to slow and stretch, each
heartbeat an eternity as I fight for my life, for my people.
A warning shout from behind snaps me back to the present just in time
to whirl and deflect a vicious overhead strike that would have cleaved me in
two. I stagger back, arms vibrating from the force of the blow, and find
myself staring up into a pair of blazing amber eyes.
Grok.
The warlord looms over me, his massive war axe gripped in hands the
size of dinner plates. This close, I can see the brutal topography of scars
etched into his stony skin, the powerful cords of muscle rippling beneath.
He regards me with a mixture of surprise and something else, something
heated and assessing that sends an entirely different kind of shiver through
me.
“The Red Blade of Thornhall,” he rumbles, his voice a deep, grating
baritone that resonates in my bones. “I’ve heard of you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I manage through gritted teeth,
adjusting my grip on my sword. “Though I’m afraid the pleasure is all
yours.”
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