Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
The money hungry treasure nymph is offered an innocent shrug. “I…simply…took the scenic route.”
“Good evening, scenic route,” Aurelia states to Cameron on a crooked grin. “I’m sure it was a pleasure to be taken almost as much as it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Cami,” my Fated Mate giggles as she extends her free hand for shaking.
“Aurelia.” She gestures her open palm towards the other glass. “Drink? You’re mated to P of all beings—the tequila shot king—so I can only assume that you do.”
There’s barely time to give her a playful glare before Cami asks, “Tequila king? These are stories I have not heard yet.”
“And she will not be the one to tell you,” I good-naturedly assure.
The female I can’t get enough of rolls her eyes before she asks, “How do you know that I’m mated to him? Did he tell you?”
“Oh, sweet spirit, shifters don’t have to verbally say that shit. They have all these non-verbal clues, the most obvious being the outrageous amount of platinum streaks now in his hair.” She turns her impish gaze to me. “You’re finally starting to look your age.”
“Why do I fucking come here?”
“Typically to get away from your brothers—or to buy them trinkets that remind the two little shits of your parents—but tonight it’s to impress your unbonded mate.” Her matter-of-fact announcement is given on a ruffle of her long, flowy brown hair. “Now, drink, shop, and be merry. Unhappiness in my presence is a very expensive tax I will tack on without hesitation.” Aurelia gives the glass countertop a good pat. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I have a gangster gnome I need to go deal with. Simply shout if you need me.” Her thin frame wanders off towards the clock section. “Lynell quit looking for places to stash fucking mushrooms!”
“Did she say…gangster gnome?!” Cami croaks causing me to chuckle.
“She did.” I pick up my champagne flute and motion for her to do the same. “It’s never a dull evening at Royal Finds.”
“Sounds like something worth cheersing to.” We clink our glasses, have sips, and drop our attention to the jewelry choices on display for the evening. “Those look interesting.” Pint-Size kicks her chin towards a pair of earrings. “What are they?”
“Lava loops.” My index finger hovers above the metal piece. “See these streams thrumming through them. It’s actual lava from an active volcano.”
Excitement ripples throughout her expression. “Wow.”
“Dad once got Mom a pair.” An amused grin slips into place. “She hated them. Continuously complained how they made her neck sweaty. Pretty sure she purposely let them fall into the lake that summer.”
Cameron snickers and points at another item. “What’s this?”
Leaning down slightly closer for a better look is done before replying. “Tie clip.”
“Boring.”
“They’re not my favorite, but they have a purpose.”
She continues visually browsing over the objects on display while I spend most of my time adoring her. The pieces that are spread out for us to admire pale in comparison to the curvy creature nursing champagne directly beside me. Yes, they sparkle in the light, yet she outshines them each time she smiles. And yes, they call to me to touch them, to gently stroke, but it’s nothing like the way her firm, round ass commands my palm to strike and my fingers to grip.
I should be ashamed by my brazen behavior.
Appalled.
Sickened even.
Cami peers up at me and slowly licks a lost drop of champagne off her full lips.
Fuck that.
I should be given a medal for not bending her over the counter right here and mating her.
Yes.
“What’s this one?” the mother of my future dragonling inquires, finger pointed to a curved tool.
“An eye baller.” Adjusting the edge of the metal device, I add, “They’re used to scoop out the creature's eyes.”
“For what?!”
“This one appears to be for cooking—certain beings’ eyes are considered a delicate dish.”
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Why not? You eat caviar-”
“Not me personally.”
“It’s a similar concept. Nothing too outrageous.”
Disgust is flashed on a dramatic headshake. She swiftly chugs down more of her beverage and moves us along on our shopping adventure. Additional questions over other objects are asked, and I’m more than happy to explain. The conversation naturally leads to interest in the company’s repurposing shop and the personal designs I’ve submitted. When asked about my favorite piece that I’ve ever created, to my surprise, I openly brag about it. I start with where the gem—the focal point of the creation—was found. What a steal of a cost it was. I then ramble on and on about how many hours I spent staring at it, sketching ideas for it, and eventually threw them all away to simply be guided by my artistic instinct. Cameron anxiously hangs onto every word that leaves my mouth, and the feeling of having her undivided attention is a thousand times more potent than the bubbly in the glass I’m still sipping.