Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“You tie me up but then don’t like the effects of the rope?” I asked in a flat tone.
A vein popped in his clenched jaw. He bent in a flurry of movement, grabbing the spear Hadriel had held and swinging it toward me. I couldn’t help the flinch this time, jerking away from him violently. I’d never seen someone move that fast—much too fast for me to anticipate. He grabbed my wrist this time, holding my hands still and then driving the tip of the spear between them. The sharp edge of the metal sliced through the rope.
When he was done, he threw the spear to the side as though unworried I’d dive for it and ripped the rest of the rope away.
“Do not,” he said, grabbing my shoulders and waiting until I met his eyes, “hurt yourself. Do you understand?”
I felt my brows pull together. “Why? So you can have that pleasure?”
His hard eyes were rimmed with fire. I felt my insides tighten with the power I saw brimming there, finding it hard to hold his gaze while also wanting to tip toward it and fall all the way in.
“I saw you flinch,” he said. “I saw what was done to Mr. Poet. Did they do that to you? Did they hurt you in that village?” He paused for a beat.
I didn’t know who Mr. Poet was, but I clenched my jaw tightly, refusing to answer.
Understanding lit his eyes anyway. I must’ve given away my affirmation in my body language.
“Who was it? That woman, Granny? Someone else in that village?” He studied me. “Answer me. I’ll end them.”
I understood his reaction about as well as I’d understood anything Hadriel had been saying.
“Is there something wrong with you people?” I blurted. “You barged into my village, killed the only family I’ve known these last fifteen years, ripped me from my home, are unlawfully holding me hostage, and you’re worried about me flinching from my captor? Do the dragons keep you around to make them feel smarter?”
His eyes narrowed slightly and he turned, jerking me along with him. We traveled through a well-organized sea of white tents, the lighting dim but still enough for me to see. The one on the end was the largest of all, almost double the size of the others.
People glanced our way—all of them nude, many dirty, and some bloodied. They’d been fighting. Killing people I knew.
Gritting my teeth against the desire to give in to the rising emotion, I staggered alongside the alpha. He reached the tent and stopped, shoving me inside. Expecting to be flung like Alexander might’ve, I was ready with quick feet and kept myself upright.
The tent’s interior was surprisingly spacious, accommodating a large cot that could easily pass as a bed for a mated couple in the village. On the other side sat a moderately sized table with four chairs, the wood polished but worn. A blanket spread across the ground in the corner with cushions dotting the surface and a book had been left lying in the middle, a little ribbon denoting his place.
I wouldn’t take you for a reading man. Or is that one filled with pictures?
The words went unspoken. Silence would needle him more than any barb. He was a man who wanted answers when he asked questions. Who took obedience for granted. I would give him none of what he was expecting.
He stopped just inside of the tent, his gaze intense. There was a sanguine quality to him, as though my proximity worked at every nerve in the most gloriously devastating of ways. Distracting ways. I knew how he felt and bet he hated it as much as I did. What I hated more, however, was not knowing what was causing it. His erection still stood proud, undiminished despite our walk. Everyone would’ve seen that. Did he care?
Did it matter?
He turned and unhooked the wooden toggle on the tent flap. It swung down, plunging us into near darkness, the only glow from one window with the flap still tied up.
Butterflies filled my stomach. This was what Granny had been warning about, my body being used as a plaything to anyone who captured me. It had revolted me. Terrified me.
I felt zero fear right now. Worse—much, much worse—was the kernel of excitement that sparked in my middle.
“I’m going to ask you questions, and I want truthful answers,” he said in a tone that was low, soft, but imbued with a silent threat. He didn’t step toward me. “There will be repercussions if you lie.”
He paused as though I might comment. When it was clear I would not, his gaze flowed over me.
“Do you need to sit?” he asked, and I couldn’t stop the frown at the unexpected question.
“What are your questions?”
Heat flared in his eyes, his gaze dropping to my lips and his eyes growing hooded. He flinched, and then snapped back to razor sharp focus. The air still crackled between us.