Read Online Prince of Flight by Mandy M. Roth - Free Book Online

everything going on here, but I have a feeling a true mate is someone special. Are you saying I’m not special?”
    Rossi snorted. “Talk yourself out of this one, brother.”
    Keonae touched his scarred face. “She is stunning. She is a ray of light. She is good and pure. I am hideous. A monster with the taint of wars and death upon me. The bird gods would not shackle her to someone such as me. They would give her a man of honor, of means, of character.”
    Sachin rolled his eyes. “So you are saying they would gift her a man who at great cost to himself fought to protect his kingdom, who is a prince by birth, wealthy beyond measure yet lives like he is poor, and a man who would lay down his life for those he loves?”
    “Yes,” said Keonae, reflecting. “That. They would give her that in a mate.”
    “He is describing you,” Lazar said.
    Keonae took another step back. “She is so beautiful. To be selected as my true mate and to get me—a hideous monster. I’m a beast and she’s a beauty.”
    He yanked his shirt over his head, showing off his upper body, knowing the extent of the damage that had been done to him long ago by a group of vultures. They had taken turns clawing him open, dumping human soil into the wounds and then repeating the actions, before snapping his bones, laughing as his body fought to heal the damage but in the end failed.
    He stared at Lark, wanting her to see how disgusting he was. He expected her to recoil in horror. The crazed woman licked her lips as if she was thinking of sliding closer and touching him.
    Did she not see him?
    “Holy crap, you’re totally ripped,” she said, her voice breathy. “You’re the sexiest man I have ever seen.”
    His jaw set. Was she daft? “Look at me. See what is before you, woman.”
    “Oh, I’m a-looking all right,” she said, biting her lower lip, nothing short of desire running over her face. “Can I touch what is in front of me? If I lick it, does it make it mine?”
    Lazar barked with laughter at Lark’s outburst.
    Keonae tossed his hands in the air. “You are daft.”
    “Seems of sound mind to me,” said Sachin. He eyed Keonae, having seen him more than once since the attack long ago without a shirt. “They are not as bad as they once were, old friend. But I believe your mind sees them as fresh as the day you received them. Not as they truly are.”
    Rossi had not seen Keonae shirtless since the attack. His brother neared him, pain in his gaze as he reached out to touch one of the many deep scars that traced Keonae’s torso and back. He still remembered getting each one.  
    “Brother, this never healed beyond this point?” Rossi asked. “But we got you home and cleansed your wounds thoroughly.”
    Sachin drew Rossi back. “We were not quick enough, Rossi. He had been there for too long. The damage was permanent. And I do not speak falsehoods to your brother. The scars are not as severe as they once were.”  
    “Brother,” breathed Rossi, a tenderness to his voice that made Keonae uncomfortable. He did not want sorrow or remorse from his brother.  
    Keonae sighed. “Stop. I do not want your pity. I simply wish for you all to know why she is not for me. Why she cannot be my mate. She is perfection. I am all that is imperfect.”
    “You’re a total dumbass,” said Lark, surprising him.
    He glanced to her.
    She bit her lower lip. “If your stunt was supposed to repulse me, you failed epically. All you did was turn me on more. I have big plans to lick every fucking inch of you, biker boy.”  
    “Biker boy?” asked Lazar.
    “Motorcycle man,” Rossi added in explanation. “The machines with two wheels.”
    “Ah,” said Lazar. “Yes, you have one of these?”
    “I do,” said Keonae.
    “I wish to ride it.”
    “Another time, Lazar,” said Sachin with a snort. “Let us convince him he is not a monster. Then you may ask to play with his human toys.”
    “You cannot convince me of such for I am a