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)
My gut twisted but I kept the familiar pain from showing on my face. He wasn’t wrong.
“Spank me and call me mama,” Hadriel muttered as though talking to the gods. He stood, facing the man again. “That is the dumbest fucking thing you have ever said, and given you say almost exclusively dumb things, that’s an achievement.”
A swell of gratitude rose in my middle. No one had ever stuck up for me like that. Granny had never made me feel inferior, unlike some in her employ, but she’d never backed people down when they said something like this man had. His opinions were common, as good as fact. No one had pushed back on someone saying what everyone was thinking.
Until now.
“With her face, she can’t help standing out,” he finished. He rumpled his brow at me. “Is that why you starved yourself, to try and erase all your curves?”
“I didn’t . . .” I looked down at my loose clothing. “I’ve always had plenty of food.”
He quirked an eyebrow at me, as though knowing it was a lie and wanting the truth, as though willing to actually listen to the truth, like he cared what it was.
Something uncomfortable tightened me up, realizing he was right. The lie was so well-rehearsed, said confidently whenever Granny asked, it had kind of stopped feeling like a lie at all.
Another part of me, though, had loosened within this exchange. He’d just defended me, a non-magical stranger—a prisoner, of all things. He’d done it so vehemently. I felt like I owed him that truth.
Or was that a lie, too? Did I actually just want someone, anyone to hear my pain? Pain I hadn’t been willing or able to tell Granny without her doing something to make matters worse? Writing it in my journal was therapeutic, but it hadn’t ever been completely enough.
I shrugged, a little uncomfortable, opening my mouth to respond.
He held up a finger. “Hold that thought. We don’t need this butt plug listening in and passing it around. He’s an awful wanker.”
He pushed the package back into the wagon.
“You’re one to talk,” the man said, bristling. “How many times did you get caught whacking off behind a tree?”
“Not as many as within the tents, I’ll tell you that. If only someone with a firm grip would take over, I wouldn’t have to do it myself. Do me a favor, Chuck. Go stick your head in a pond and try to breathe. That would save us all a lot of heartache.”
The man’s chest puffed out, his arms flaring at his sides. “Get bent, you little runt.”
“Fuck a cactus.” Hadriel closed up the wagon and ushered me in front of him. “Come on, love, don’t worry about him. There’s a reason he’s back here tending the supplies. Mediocrity would be a step up for the likes of that cock drip.”
At the end of the line of supplies, he pointed me to a grouping of thick-based trees. “Just pop behind there and change your shirt really quickly. Please don’t run. My nerves are fried, and I really don’t want to chase you. I certainly don’t want to deal with a feral alpha.”
I did as he said, handing back the ripped shirt when I was done.
“And thanks,” he said, ushering me toward the front of the line again.
“For what?”
“For letting the alpha finger bang you. I would’ve gotten my ass chewed for letting you wander away. Here we go.”
It took Hadriel and someone else to get me onto the horse. There was only a padded sort of blanket, something he mentioned had to do with two people. I wouldn’t fit in the saddle with him.
After he was up, I spied the alpha—Weston—at the head of the procession, strong and handsome, sitting atop a fierce-eyed, white stallion. The sun highlighted streaks of blond in his hair, sparkling as though a halo. His people, waiting around him patiently, sat tall, regal and confident, on horses just as fine. Their clothing wasn’t colorful, as Hadriel had hinted, but was made with fine fabrics and sewn with an expert hand. It was clear the alpha led a very rich and powerful pack.
Another spark of pride worked through me, as though I had a right to it. Even if that wasn’t so hopelessly fucked up because of my situation, all I’d done was fuck him. If I’d had magic, I still would never be in high enough standing for anything more. Not for someone like him.
His head was bowed just slightly, engrossed by something he held.
As though feeling my gaze, he suddenly straightened and turned to me. Butterflies exploded in my middle. His deep voice uttered something, his tone low, said to the person at his side and a little behind him. I was too far away to hear it. Then he tapped his heels to his horse’s sides, starting forward.