Read Online Warden (Elemental Paladins Book 1) by Montana Ash - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Montana Ash
Tags: Fiction
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nothing she could do to fix her appearance. Not wanting to invite further questions, Max replied offhandedly;
“First night in a new bed and all that.” She was saved from additional interrogation by the slamming of a heavy door and a stampede of testosterone. Cali, bless her soul, had not been lying. The men descended en masse , no longer breathing hard but still shirtless and damp. Up close like this their bodies looked carved from stone with intriguing dips and valleys that had Max’s fingers tingling with the need to touch. It also had her wishing she hadn’t lost her sketch book when she fled from Budapest. They were such fodder for her graphic novels! She noted that a couple of them had faded tattoos gracing their left forearms, almost as if they had decided to get them removed or something. Max thought it very odd that they were all in the exact same position, although she couldn’t make out the designs they all seemed to be patterns of some sort. She received a series of ‘mornings’ as if her presence was an everyday occurrence.
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of coffee-making, table-setting, and pancake-stacking. Max found herself seated at the table between Cali and Axel, her plate covered in bacon, maple syrup and pancakes and was horrified to find herself blinking back tears. She couldn’t even recall the last time she had shared a home cooked meal with people who welcomed her.
“You look like shit.”
Wait, what? Max looked up only to find Ryker staring directly at her. Was he talking to her? “Are you talking to me?”
He nodded and drank down half a bottle of water in one swallow, “Yes. You look like shit.”
Max gasped in outrage. Although she didn’t fancy herself as particularly pretty, she still had enough feminine pride to feel insulted down to her bones. Ignoring the stunned, amused and resigned faces around the table she glared back. “Well you don’t exactly look …” She trailed off feebly as she took in his magnificent chest, chiselled jaw and midnight hair. Damn the man – he was absolutely perfect! Her stupid tongue wouldn’t let her form the lie so instead she went on the defensive. “How do you know I look like shit? You only just met me! For all you know, this is just my face!” She continued, “And will you please put a shirt on? It’s hardly hygienic. I’m trying to eat here!”
Dark eyebrows arched over compelling brown eyes as he smirked and completely ignored her, “What happened to your lip?”
So arrogant! Max thought. She wanted to smack the arrogance right off his face … and then kiss him all better. What was it about this guy that pushed all her buttons? She’d sooner die than admit that to him of course so she answered sweetly;
“Last night when I went to bed, I thought of you as I pleasured myself. I sank my teeth into my lip in order to stifle my screams of ecstasy.” She turned to Axel who was grinning in appreciation, “I’m thoughtful like that.”
Snickers and good-natured ribbing followed – although Ryker didn’t seem to appreciate her particular brand of humour. Perhaps he had some sort of blunt object shoved up his arse? Maybe she would ask him about it one day. His narrowed gaze suggested that perhaps today was not that day.
“You’re so pale you’re nearly translucent; the bags under your eyes are so black they look like you’ve rimmed them in boot polish; and your hands are shaking so much you can barely hold your fork.” He pointed out emotionlessly. “You’re running on fumes.”
“Well, perhaps if you’d stop insulting me and let me consume this wonderful breakfast, I could put something in the tank.”
Darius, ever the diplomat, jumped into the conversation, “He’s not referring to your diet, although I’m sure you would benefit from a few good square meals. He means your vitality is low. You are worn thin Max.”
Max frowned, “I still don’t understand what you mean by vitality.”
“It’s the
“First night in a new bed and all that.” She was saved from additional interrogation by the slamming of a heavy door and a stampede of testosterone. Cali, bless her soul, had not been lying. The men descended en masse , no longer breathing hard but still shirtless and damp. Up close like this their bodies looked carved from stone with intriguing dips and valleys that had Max’s fingers tingling with the need to touch. It also had her wishing she hadn’t lost her sketch book when she fled from Budapest. They were such fodder for her graphic novels! She noted that a couple of them had faded tattoos gracing their left forearms, almost as if they had decided to get them removed or something. Max thought it very odd that they were all in the exact same position, although she couldn’t make out the designs they all seemed to be patterns of some sort. She received a series of ‘mornings’ as if her presence was an everyday occurrence.
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of coffee-making, table-setting, and pancake-stacking. Max found herself seated at the table between Cali and Axel, her plate covered in bacon, maple syrup and pancakes and was horrified to find herself blinking back tears. She couldn’t even recall the last time she had shared a home cooked meal with people who welcomed her.
“You look like shit.”
Wait, what? Max looked up only to find Ryker staring directly at her. Was he talking to her? “Are you talking to me?”
He nodded and drank down half a bottle of water in one swallow, “Yes. You look like shit.”
Max gasped in outrage. Although she didn’t fancy herself as particularly pretty, she still had enough feminine pride to feel insulted down to her bones. Ignoring the stunned, amused and resigned faces around the table she glared back. “Well you don’t exactly look …” She trailed off feebly as she took in his magnificent chest, chiselled jaw and midnight hair. Damn the man – he was absolutely perfect! Her stupid tongue wouldn’t let her form the lie so instead she went on the defensive. “How do you know I look like shit? You only just met me! For all you know, this is just my face!” She continued, “And will you please put a shirt on? It’s hardly hygienic. I’m trying to eat here!”
Dark eyebrows arched over compelling brown eyes as he smirked and completely ignored her, “What happened to your lip?”
So arrogant! Max thought. She wanted to smack the arrogance right off his face … and then kiss him all better. What was it about this guy that pushed all her buttons? She’d sooner die than admit that to him of course so she answered sweetly;
“Last night when I went to bed, I thought of you as I pleasured myself. I sank my teeth into my lip in order to stifle my screams of ecstasy.” She turned to Axel who was grinning in appreciation, “I’m thoughtful like that.”
Snickers and good-natured ribbing followed – although Ryker didn’t seem to appreciate her particular brand of humour. Perhaps he had some sort of blunt object shoved up his arse? Maybe she would ask him about it one day. His narrowed gaze suggested that perhaps today was not that day.
“You’re so pale you’re nearly translucent; the bags under your eyes are so black they look like you’ve rimmed them in boot polish; and your hands are shaking so much you can barely hold your fork.” He pointed out emotionlessly. “You’re running on fumes.”
“Well, perhaps if you’d stop insulting me and let me consume this wonderful breakfast, I could put something in the tank.”
Darius, ever the diplomat, jumped into the conversation, “He’s not referring to your diet, although I’m sure you would benefit from a few good square meals. He means your vitality is low. You are worn thin Max.”
Max frowned, “I still don’t understand what you mean by vitality.”
“It’s the
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