Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I understand boredom.” He gestures at the endless snowy hills around us, his face hard. “You think I do not get bored with no one to talk to? Hunting day in and day out with barely a word spoken to another? You think I do not long for company around the fire at night? I would gladly take Taushen’s snoring over the silence of being alone.”
“I…oh.” I suddenly don’t know what to say. That sounds awful, and yet at the same time, I can’t believe I’m having feelings of sympathy toward the douche that stole my sister. Because I know what it’s like to be ignored. I know what it’s like to feel like everyone in the world is against you. I know what it feels like to be on the outside and wanting desperately to be accepted.
I just didn’t think I’d be feeling kinship towards Hassen. I’ve been told over and over again that Lila was never in danger with him, that he only stole her because he wanted to take care of her and mate with her, but I’ve been holding on to a lot of damn anger over that, regardless. He tried to force her hand, and that was not cool.
But now I’m also seeing another layer below ‘cocky jerkbag.’ He still is, but he’s also…lonely and desperate. He saw my sister as a chance and he took it. I should hate him for that. Instead, I keep thinking about how warm his fuzzy, velvety chest was.
I must be an idiot. “Well, if you’re bored,” I say lightly, “then teach me how to hunt. We can keep each other company.” I twang the bow string that’s snugged between my breasts like a seatbelt. “I need to learn to be useful. Not just because I need to contribute to the food situation, but I need something to do.”
I don’t point out the thought niggling in the back of my mind: that I need to be able to take care of myself if I ever can’t take it and want to leave the tribe. I keep telling myself that will never happen, and yet I keep thinking about it. Because I don’t feel loved, or needed, or accepted, and I didn’t realize how badly I needed those things until now.
Hassen regards me for such a long time that I can’t tell what’s going on in that head of his. Is he thinking about teaching me? Is he thinking dirty thoughts about me? Is he…focused on the fucking? I shiver at the thought, because that’s another that won’t leave my head.
Stupid head, always holding on to the wrong stuff.
I fiddle with the bowstring again and his gaze goes there. I freeze, because now that means he’s looking right at my boobs. I hope he’s not wondering why they’re so much bigger than all the other girls here. None of the aliens are fat, and that would be a hella awkward conversation to have.
“I am supposed to be exiled,” he finally says, looking up at my eyes once more.
“That’s cool,” I say brightly. “I’ll just teach myself. No biggie.” I turn away.
He grabs my arm, and to my surprise, he growls—just like a bear. It’s weird…and it makes my body thrill just a bit more than it should. “You did not let me finish, female.”
“Pfft. Then go ahead and finish, male.” I turn back to him and gesture grandly. “Continue.”
Hassen crosses his arms over his chest. And okay, I really should not be paying attention to the fact that it makes his arms flex into the most incredible biceps, or that his pectorals are these amazing flat squares of muscle that are just begging to be petted again. “We cannot tell anyone that we are meeting. I do not wish for the chief to prolong my exile.”
Oh. Is that his only concern? I smile, relieved. It feels like he just agreed to be my friend, and it’s strange how happy that makes me. “Cool. So you’re going to tutor me after all?”
He gives a quick nod and studies me again. “But not with this bow.”
“Why not?”
“Your arms are not long enough to draw it properly. You are smaller than Leezh.”
That’s not something I hear often, and I preen a bit at that. I mean, clearly he’s not talking about our figures, because Liz just had a baby and I’m still larger than her, but I like hearing it anyhow. “Then what?”
He grabs my hand and studies it, frowning to himself.
“W-what are you looking at?” God, I sound all breathless. But him grabbing my hand has kind of thrown me for a loop. His hands are so freaking big, and I feel all dainty and girly next to him.
“You have small fingers,” he tells me, and it sounds like an admonition. “And small hands. Too small for my blades.”