The Great and Terrible (Out of Ozland #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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A laugh bubbled from me. “You have the cutest ears,” I told him.

He rolled his lips between his teeth to maybe, possibly prevent a grin. “The lightheadedness will pass in a few minutes.”

“But what if I don’t want it to pass?” I threw my head back and spun. Wait. I wasn’t spinning, the world was. Another laugh escaped. “This is wonderful! You should ask me on a date. I’ll say yes.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You should say no,” he said, his tone tragic. “I’m nothing special. One of many.”

How could he even think such a travesty? “You are everything special.”

He blinked at me, a slow lowering and lifting of his lids.

Hmm. The dizziness was fading fast, my wits returning. Groaned, I pressed a hand to my brow. “Tell me I didn’t compliment your ears.”

“What do you like about them, exactly?” he asked, clasping my wrist and unwrapping my bandage. “Describe them in detail.”

He was trying not to laugh, wasn’t he? “No, I don’t think I will.” I’d rather learn why he thought so poorly of himself.

“That’s too bad.”

This interaction reminded me of our flirtation during the revenge lottery, and it left me off kilter. Even more so when he studied my hand in the light.

“It worked!” Great waves of relief crashed over me. No hint of the brand remained. “The connection to West is severed.”

“Yes. Much better.” Jasher grazed the center of my palm with his finger before taking a step back. “Now punch me so I can tell you what you’re doing wrong and fix it.”

I snorted. Dang, but I liked this boy. “I’ve never punched anyone. But if I did, I’d do it this way.” I balled my fist and softly performed a mock punch.

“Then you would break your thumb and nothing else.” He readjusted my fingers, saying, “In the royal guard, we’re taught three facts within the first hour. If you break your thumb on the first punch, you’ve already lost. If you aren’t prepared for an enemy’s attack, you’re already defeated. If you entertain doubts about your chances, you’re already dead.”

For the next two hours, we trained. He corrected my errors, offered advice, and demonstrated techniques with a gentleness I found endearing. He also showed me how to best utilize the dagger I still hadn’t returned and equipped me with lifesaving information and skills. I admit, my gratefulness got the better of me a time or five, and I hugged him.

He received the affectionate gestures stiffly in the beginning, but by the final, he wrapped his arms around me without hesitation and squeezed. At the end of the session, I wasn’t any kind of expert, but I had a clearer understanding of self-defense, and a new appreciation for my guide. He never lost his temper, seeming to draw from a never-ending well of patience. Even when he could, even when I wished would, he didn’t take undue liberties. He always went to great lengths to ensure he never caused me injury, no matter what we practiced.

“You did good,” he praised.

“So did you.” We shared a smile, and it rocked my world. No one, anywhere, could be half as beautiful as this man when he lit up like this.

“Is it my turn to punch you?” Leona asked, batting her lashes at him.

“It’s only fair,” Patch quipped.

Oops! I’d forgotten about our audience.

“We leave in ten minutes,” he barked, stalking into the heart of our camp. “Be ready or be left behind.”

The change in him proved as jarring as the mayor’s interruption, my encouraging instructor now a military commander. Was he as unnerved by our interaction as I was?

Damp with sweat, I knelt at the riverbank and splashed my overheated face. Hmm. My reflection. Was that… Iris! The water appeared endlessly deep as the water maiden breeched the surface bit by bit.

I cast a furtive glance over my shoulder. No one paid us any attention, pre-occupied with packing.

“How much do you trust your executioner, hmm?” she asked.

“More than I trust a tricky water maiden who hates the only person able to send me home.” As the telltale burn erupted in my ring finger, I considered my options. Alert the others. Use the dagger hooked to my pants. Find out what she had to say? Ding, ding, ding. We had a winner.

Waves rippled around her. “The unnamed favor you owe ensures I do everything in my power to keep you alive, girl. I suggest you thank me rather than complain.”

“Please. You didn’t help me in the trapper village.” And now, the burning shadow ring promised only danger.

“Oh, I helped you. Just because you didn’t see my efforts doesn’t mean I did nothing. Who do you think bought you time while your precious executioner made his weapons?”

A breeze blustered, and I shoved a lock of hair from my face. People kept making good points.


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