Free Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) by Phillip Jones Page B

quick to wipe it off, but the damage had been done. Her eyes rolled up inside her head as she fell limp to the floor. Her look of terror changed to one of sweet repose as the image of her beautiful face reflected off the polished surface.
    Sam sat up and raised his elbow. He was about to bring it down across the back of the animal’s neck when a booming voice filled the hall.
    The voice was thunderous and echoed. “ENOUGH!”
    Sam and the wolf were startled. Sam dropped his elbow, and the animal lying beneath him stopped struggling. The fighter looked over his shoulder. To his surprise, the statue-man was awake and walking toward him.
    Thinking he should finish off the wolf to prepare for the next fight, Sam failed to recall the words on the base of the statue. This approaching man was supposed to be a god, and by the look of things, Sam and Shalee were the two members of the group who had not fallen by the wayside.
    Again, Sam raised his elbow to strike, but before he could deliver the blow to the back of the animal’s neck, he was sent flying through the air. The fighter slammed high against one of the pillars closest to where the floor had opened.
    Pinned, suspended, and unable to move his arms, legs or head, Sam’s eyes followed the hooded god as he moved to a position beneath him and looked up. “Perhaps you misunderstood. I said, enough!”
    The god’s voice was hard and strong. The power behind it filled the air. “My name is Bassorine. I am the God of War. I have chosen to use my statue to welcome you to Grayham. It is I who will answer your questions, and it is you who will listen when I speak. Do we have an understanding, my mortal friend?”
    Bassorine waved his arm, releasing Sam from his unseen bonds. As Sam drifted to the floor, he replayed the sound of the word ‘mortal’ in his head. He realized that in his haste to control his surroundings, he had overlooked the godly part of the prophecy and had attacked needlessly.
    Knowing he was helpless against such power, Sam reluctantly replied, “I understand,” and further thought, Besides, I’d get my ass kicked.
    Sam said nothing more as he watched the “so-called” God of War walk toward Shalee. Bassorine stopped above her and moved his hand over her body. Her mass lifted from the floor and hung suspended, high enough for the god to stroke her face without bending over.
    Shalee’s eyelids fluttered as Bassorine set the human back on her feet. As he waited for Shalee to regain her balance, Bassorine could see the frightened look on her face. “Be comforted, lovely one. No harm will come to you.”
    It took a fair series of moments before Shalee was able to calm down. She moved to stand beside Sam after Bassorine motioned for her to do so.
    The heavy-coated wolf moved away from the God of War to explore its surroundings. As it did, the beast limped over to Sam and sniffed the fighter’s feet. The animal pulled back and snorted its disapproval.
    Moving on to Shalee, the beast seemed to find delight in this new aroma. With each sniff, the wolf’s snout rose higher and higher until it took in a heavy breath of her backside. As it circled to the front, a better aroma was found.
    Shalee was beginning to feel violated as she stood in stunned silence. The warm air from the wolf’s snout was passing through her PJs—like Mother Nature’s summer breeze.
    “Mosley, stop that!” Bassorine commanded.
    The wolf pulled back and turned to face the god. What happened next caught Sam and Shalee off guard. The beast spoke. “What? Her aroma is magnificent.” He looked at Sam. “But your smell curls the hair in my snout. You don’t run with the rest of your pack. Your odor is selfish.” The wolf looked back at Bassorine. “The human doesn’t have the smell of a leader as you said he would.”
    Mosley looked back at Sam. “Despite your stench, you fought well. I can’t remember the last series of moments in which I was hit that hard ... a few well-placed