Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
I’m pushing it with that last comment a little, but Avel and Thorn are discussing struts and I don’t think they hear a word that is being said between Sullivan and me.
A brief snort reminds me that we are not the only four sentient creatures in the room, however. There is a saurian standing off to the side behind Thorn’s chair, clearly a servant of some kind with a big spoon-shaped scoop coming off the back of his head. I note that he winces slightly every time Sullivan speaks. He does not like her, and he clearly picked up on the implication of my comments. I give him a brief smile, and he inclines his head in a small nod of acknowledgement. Seems Sullivan isn’t making friends on this planet either, unless you count the alpha, and I don’t. He’s fucking her, and that’s going to addle his judgement where he is concerned.
“God, Raine. You don’t have to be such a bitch!”
If I wasn’t sitting still and pretending to be shocked, I’d do a happy dance as Sullivan takes the bait. This is the problem with her all over. She’s impulsive to a fault. She can’t reason her way through anything. She feels the need to do something, and she just straight up does it.
“Suli!” Thorn admonishes her. He uses only part of her name, a diminutive, cutesy, inaccurate-sounding moniker. “Please do not curse at our guests.”
Sullivan stands up, pushing her chair back loudly. The chairs she and I have are made specially for us so we can sit up at the table. They have very long legs, but it means that the second she stands up, she pretty much disappears underneath the table. I can see a hint of her curls as she dives beneath the table and comes for me.
“Oh my gosh! Stop it! Oh my god!” I exclaim in faux-horror as Sullivan rushes at me. I didn’t think she’d actually try to fight me, but maybe there’s more going on here in the alpha’s house. Maybe I managed to say exactly the wrong thing to her at exactly the right time.
Sullivan is trying to drag me down off the chair. I cling to it, not because I don’t want the satisfaction of fighting with her, but because I want to keep up the appearance of being a helpless victim. It’s hard, given Sullivan is shorter than me and younger than me, and frankly, couldn’t hurt me if she wanted to.
Avel gives me an unexpectedly sharp look. A cool sensation rushes down my spine and sends tingles shooting to my extremities. I’m surprised by it. I can tell instantly he is not buying the charade I am trying to engage in. He must have been listening more closely than I imagined. Or maybe he just understands human nature and conversational jousting better than I thought. I know from his stare alone that I am in trouble, and that trouble is going to manifest in pain.
Goddammit. No matter what, Sullivan always seems to come out on top. Me, meanwhile? Fate has shown her contempt for me many times. I work hard. I do what needs to be done. I do things other people can’t, or won’t, do. And all it’s ever gotten me is a supporting role to a showboat captain, who it now turns out is one little programming session away from being a fucking drone.
There’s a chip in Sullivan’s head, put there by an organization that intended to turn her into a living meat robot. She escaped before that could happen, because of course she did. Even when bad things happen to her, they turn out well. By all rights, she should have run into enemy fire a hundred times now and be nothing but a collection of ashes. But instead, she’s been pulled out from under the table and is being snuggled by the biggest, baddest saurian on this planet.
The alpha is soothing her with rumbling words that she doesn’t deserve. “Calm yourself,” he is saying. “The lesser human will not be permitted to disrespect you in my home.”
Lesser human. Those two words are enough to make my temper flare. I do my best to keep control of it, because I don’t want to make matters worse, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off Sullivan and her alpha. I gave up my freedom for this woman who doesn’t even want to be rescued. That’s the fucked-up part. I risked everything coming here to save her at the crew’s insistence, and she’s sitting here looking as comfortable as anybody can be.
I feel myself being lifted out of my chair. No words, just a snatching motion that comes from the back of my dress and removes me from the situation in one big swooping movement. Avel lifts me up by the scruff of my attire the same way a mother cat carries a kitten out of a room.