The moon goddess has taken up residency within Prince Caben, darkening his mind and soul. Now he hunts the very women he sacrificed his life to save, his conflicting desires for love and power raging a battle within him. Kaliope possesses the key to setting Bale free, and Caben will stop at nothing to see his goddess restored. Even if that means destroying the kingdom he’s sworn to protect, and the infuriating woman who torments his thoughts.
Kaliope, now the leader to the newly formed Nactue Guard, has vowed to save Caben. But with a traitor lurking among her people, and powers she’s unable to fully control, Kaliope’s mission becomes shrouded with doubt. Her new role as watcher over Caben’s kingdom brings a burden she’s unable to bear alone, and appointing the right person in charge of the prince’s affairs has turned a kingdom against the Nactue leader. Saving her stubborn, willful prince from the darkness overtaking him will be the battle of her life, and she needs people she can trust by her side. But bad blood between members of the Nactue obscure Kaliope’s journey, while her feelings for Caben cloud her judgment.
When the time comes to do what she must to destroy the goddess of chaos, will she be able to if it means losing Caben forever?
Book two of the Goddess Wars is told in dual point of view from Kaliope and Caben. New Adult Dark Fantasy, intended for readers 17 years of age and older.
I block her blow and come at her from above, forcing her to deflect my attacks at an awkward angle for her petite stature. My smile spreads. “We can dance like this all night, but I’d rather our time be spent more usefully.” I lunge and slash, making it tiring for her to defend herself. “Take me to the goddess relic, and I’ll let you and your empress live…for the time being.” I grunt as she snakes a cheap shot to my wrist.
She’s not amused by the slight damage she’s inflicted. Rather, as her gaze traps my
broken skin, she looks mortified. Everything I’ve waited for is falling apart. I can’t have her die at the end of my sword while mourning the loss of her prince. She needs anger. Wrath. Disgust.
Those are the emotions that will drive her to face me full-on and not hold back.
I could end this now—slice her open and turn my back on her forever. Find the relic
easily for myself and what else I came here for and then be gone. But something inside me
refuses to accept a simple defeat. Not from the woman who has tormented my thoughts with
weakness and regret.
She’s the last thing in this world that threatens my power. And I refuse to destroy her in
this state, only to have her haunt me from the grave. I need a worthy foe—a vicious opponent—to defeat.
Not a heartbroken girl.
“This won’t do.” I growl as I back her against the wall, my swings becoming sloppy with
my rage. As if she knows what she’s doing to me, she smiles. The first one I’ve seen in so
long…and she’s beautiful. Heart stopping. It infuriates me.
I shout and thrust my sword, knocking hers aside as I move into her personal space.
Realization washes over her face, and she quickly brings up her arm to guard against my fist. I stop short, my balled hand an inch from her cheek.
My breaths are hot and quick as they leave my mouth in heavy puffs. My gaze flicks over
Kal’s shocked face, her trembling lips. And my fingers uncurl. I press closer and trace my
fingertips along her soft skin…
Kill her.
With a jerk of my head, I hush the dark goddess’s voice. Then I seize Kal’s wrist and
slam the back of her hand against the stone wall. She’s as stubborn as ever, keeping a tight grip on her weapon. I knock her arm against the wall again. And again, until she releases a cry and her sword clatters to the floor.
I drop my own and grab the arm still held up as a shield, then pin both her wrists to the
wall. “Look at me,” I order, my tone giving away my frustration. Impatience grips my nerves,
and I drop one hand to grasp her face, forcing her eyes to meet mine.
As she drinks me in hungrily, like she’s only just now truly seeing me, something stirs
beneath my skin. The white power crackles over my hands, healing the wound on my wrist, and Kal’s eyes widen.
The last time she encountered my power, when she was trapped by the glowing tentacles,
she suffered tremendous pain, I’m sure. And though something inside me is screaming to
unleash that power on her now, I rein it in. I don’t want our dance to end so soon.
As the power recedes, leaving my skin unblemished, I caress her face. Run my palm and
fingers along her soft flesh. Down her jawline. All the while, her eyes hold me, ensnaring me.
This is her power—her spell over me. It’s the reason why she must die.
I have to be free of her.
Yet, I can’t help wanting to inhale her, taste her, quench my thirst of her one last time.
And maybe that will even spark the fury within her to fight. Bring the old Kal back, the one who would rather put a blade through a man’s heart than be victim to his charms.
Pushing my body against hers, I revel in the feel of her curves, and know that I’m lying
to myself. It’s completely selfish what I’m craving, but the lie is all too tempting. Just like her.
I lower my head and place my lips to her neck, breathe her in. Then, trailing them along
her slick skin, my tongue flicking out to taste the mix of sweetness and salt, I move next to her ear. Her breaths deepen, pressing her sultry chest to mine.
“Let me in, Kal,” I whisper, loving how my words cause her to shiver. “It’s what you
want.”
Pulling back, I lock gazes with her. The desire in her eyes urges my lips to trap hers, and
I move in. Wanting to caress them as much as the yearning demands to hurt them.
“Caben,” she says, low and breathy. I halt my descent. She bites down on her lip, and my
arousal hardens painfully against my pants.
“What, love?”
A slow smile curls her lips. “Fuck off.” Then she spits in my face.
About the Author
From an early age, Trisha Wolfe
dreamed up fantasy worlds and characters and was accused of talking to herself.
Today, she lives in South Carolina with her family and writes full time, using
her fantasy worlds as an excuse to continue talking to herself. For more
information on Trisha Wolfe and her works, please visit: www.trishawolfe.com/
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