Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Is it your hand? I offer as I head down the hall. I send a mental image of Luminoura sucking on her fist. Because that will have no milk. It just feels good.
It is my hand, the child sends back, full of wonder. How did you know?
Lucky guess. I send my thoughts out, brushing against the child that is in Gwen's womb. Its thoughts grow brighter by the day, and soon it will be ready to be born. Even though I tell myself to leave it alone, I cannot help but reach out and greet it, waiting. The child will be part of the shield we need to create to prevent the thing in the Rift from coming through.
Just thinking about the creature—or god—lurking above, waiting to come through, is enough to sour my mood. I storm down the hall, thinking of Melina. My dreams were of her last night, and they were not good dreams. I dreamed that long, slithering gray tentacles reached through the Rift down to Earth. I dreamed that my fort was overrun by bugs, some as big as people, feasting on those that trusted me to keep them safe. The skies were gray and the streets covered in blood, and Melina turned to look at me with such accusing, sad eyes, as if I was somehow responsible.
It felt too real. And so when I enter the dining room and see Gwen and her mate eating my food, along with Rachel and Jurik, my mood sours even more. Their plates are brimming with food, and Rachel shoots me a dirty look as she eats, deliberately chewing with her mouth open and smacking in the way I hate. I take a deep breath, because I need this female's help. She is pregnant, I remind myself. I must remain calm.
It takes everything I have to keep my voice calm and relaxed. "I see you are helping yourselves to my fort's bounty. Did you see Melina this morning?"
Gwen toys with a bite of food on her plate, her belly enormous with the child that is nearly ready to be born. "The servants said she didn't stop to eat this morning. Just headed on toward the clinic."
And these cows will eat her food in her stead. Gritting my teeth, I bite back a snarl. "Enjoy this easy meal, then, because we are rationing soon."
"Dick," Rachel says, the word succinct. And then she takes another deliberate, large bite out of a pancake.
I hate that female. I glare at her, and at the brooding, barely restrained drakoni who looks ready to leap across the table at me in order to protect his mate. I need them, I remind myself, and think of that tentacle and the malevolent creature it was attached to. I need them, and the child that horrid female is growing in her belly, so I turn on my heel and storm away, into the kitchens. "I need a meal for my mate," I snarl at the first person I see. "Since no one here is competent enough to feed her before she has to spend the day wiping away vomit from the selfish people of this fort."
A man flinches and scurries away, hastily loading a basket for me to take to her. I could send a soldier with it. There are a hundred things to do this morning, and I have people to meet with. We need to discuss how to winterize our plants. How to deploy our scavenging teams. The ongoing problems with the panty program (as they call it) I've created for the females to try and lure more drakoni toward the fort. It is effective enough, but Melina doesn't like it. She feels the females are trapped into their choices, so I need to discuss ways we can ensure my mate's happiness and still achieve our goals. I cannot control more dragons, so I must rely on the females enticing them and then becoming impregnated.
It is not ideal, because I do not like to depend upon others, but I am left with little choice.
Once the basket is filled, I snatch it from the servant's hands and then pause as the man cowers. Melina would not approve. "My thanks," I grit out. "I am in a foul mood but know that it is not your fault."
The man's eyes widen in surprise and he nods. "Of course, my lord. I am just glad to help."
"You are an excellent servant," I tell him, remembering my mate's advice to praise. Basket in hand, I decide I will deliver it myself. My work can wait. I need to look at Melina, to gaze upon my mate's beautiful face and ensure that she is content. That her eyes are not filled with reproach like they were in my dreams.
I storm out of the barracks, not pausing when one of the men falls into step behind me. Guards are a necessity. I am too important to this fort to be accosted by someone who thinks they can rule better. I stride across the compound, eyeing the dirty streets with distaste. No matter how often we clean, they muck it up again. There is a muddy trail from the well all down the streets, as if no one can be bothered to make sure their buckets do not slop water as they walk. Chickens wander about, and the smell of excrement is, as usual, everywhere. To think that this is still better than it was. They would be lost without me, these filthy idiots. They should be glad I am bothering with them.