Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Chapter Two
Raevion
I know something is different about tonight the moment I step into the control room. I haven’t even glanced at the monitors for the main floor where I’m sure hundreds of women are already crammed onto the dance floor and pushing to get to the bar.
It’s not the crowd that catches my attention. It’s the music. I’ve been here five nights, and this is the first time I’ve heard anything in this genre. I don’t even know what it is.
Four other men are gathered in this second-floor control room. They’re hovered around two monitors that show what’s happening on the first floor.
As I join them, I realize what’s different. “There’s a live singer?”
Kalbrac glances at me and nods. “Appears so. She’s good.”
She is good. I find myself lured forward to hear better. We don’t always have the volume up loud enough to hear the music in the control room because we don’t really care, but apparently someone took a liking to this singer and turned it up.
Her voice is deep and sultry. Her tone is gravelly and unlike anything I’ve heard before. I’m lost in this female’s voice as I approach and stunned when I finally see the tiny pixie whose voice has such a wide range. I find myself staring at her. I’m transfixed.
She’s sitting on a stool, but she has a grip on the microphone, and she’s swaying with the music as if she’s living it. She is living it. To her, this is a living being. It is for me, too. And I wonder if this is a song she wrote herself or if she’s singing someone else’s arrangement.
We aren’t familiar with every type of music here on Earth. Though we do have access to it and can listen to nearly everything ever produced on Earth, we haven’t had that ability long enough to be familiar with all music. The fact that I haven’t heard this one doesn’t mean this particular female wrote it herself.
I’m curious. Mesmerized. Frozen. I don’t think I’ve blinked. She sits with her feet on the top rung of the stool. She’s wearing clunky black boots and a very short skirt. With her knees up as high as they are, she has to keep her legs pinned together so no one can see up her skirt.
Her hair is odd. I haven’t seen many women with that style. Small braids that are seemingly random and hang long down her back and over her shoulders. I can’t see her face well, but I feel like I need to.
“Raevion? Hello? Earth to Raevion.”
I glance at Kalbrac next to me when I realize he’s been calling my name and is now chuckling at his last sentence. Earth to Raevion. It’s a comical phrase for us and apparently common on this planet.
He’s grinning and rubbing his chin. “You just going to stand there or go claim her?” he teases.
I jerk my gaze back to the golden beauty. She’s moved on to another song. The crowd loves her, which isn’t surprising. Many of the women look like they’re attending a concert instead of a dance bar. About half the audience has stopped dancing or talking to gather closer and watch my girl.
My breath hitches at the realization of what Kalbrac said as well as my sudden acknowledgment. I inch closer to the monitor.
“Lucky man,” Kalbrac says. “If I had a Little girl who could sing like that, I’d never leave my house again. I’d hook her up with every damn instrument she required and sit on my couch for daily concerts.”
“You really think she’s mine?” I murmur. I’m not sure if I’m asking myself or Kalbrac. I’m not even sure why I’m doubting the obvious.
“Certainly appears that way,” Kalbrac responds.
I let myself look away again to glance at the rest of the men in the room. Everyone is looking at me. A few of them have their hands lifted as if in defeat.
Kalbrac chuckles. “She’s already yours. No one else is going to sneak in and claim her. It’s done,” he reminds me, which seems necessary since I’ve taken leave of all common sense.
An intense possessive instinct has kicked in, making me feel defensive even though my peers have obviously acknowledged they have no interest in my Little girl.
I’ve studied this phenomenon. We all do before we arrive on Earth. Fate makes the choice for us. We are Her pawns. Once a female is selected by the universe to be our life mate, no one else will experience the sensation. She’s officially off the market even though I have not seen or scented her in person.
Part of me wants to rush down to the first floor and push my way through the crowd to get to her. I’m trembling with the urge. In fact, I tuck the tips of my fingers into the front pockets of my uncomfortable dress pants to keep from fisting them as though I need to fight for her.