Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“All right—do you want me to call her?” Rath asked. “I can stay right by you if it helps and if you can’t talk to her, just whisper in my ear and I’ll translate for you.”
I couldn’t help being touched by his kindness. The other guys in my life—all two of them—had been impatient with me, even when I explained my problem communicating. They had both hung around long enough to date me, but it had become clear to me eventually that all either of them wanted was sex—not any kind of relationship. And when I couldn’t give either of them what they wanted, they left.
Compared to both of the human guys I had dated, the big Orc was being incredibly sweet and understanding. Which wasn’t exactly what you’d expect from a seven-foot-tall monster. Or Creature, as they called themselves.
“Why are you being so nice to me—even after the crazy way I acted yesterday?” I asked him. I honestly wanted to know.
He smiled.
“I guess…I just like you. And I feel protective of you. I hope that doesn’t sound weird or anything,” he added.
“No—I like you too.” I looked up at him shyly. “Thanks for giving me another chance.”
Rath spread his hands.
“Least I could do. You gave me a second chance after I chased you through your backyard.”
I laughed.
“Okay, true. But before you make the call, can I go change first and put on some makeup?”
“You look beautiful to me, but whatever makes you comfortable. I’ll wait down here with Sebastian.” He leaned down to pet my cat, who was rubbing against his legs in an unusual display of affection. He normally didn’t like anyone but me, but he really seemed to have taken to the big Orc.
“Help yourself to some pie,” I offered, blushing at his compliment. “There’s still some left.”
Rath’s golden eyes lit up.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he rumbled. “That’s one recipe from your Grandma’s Grimoire that you need to keep!”
I laughed again and went upstairs to put on a nicer top and some makeup. What was it about the big Orc that made me feel so at home—so safe and at ease? And why did he care so much about helping me?
In different circumstances, I might have thought he was trying to get into my pants. But he’d had ample opportunity to do that last night when I was throwing myself at him and he hadn’t taken advantage. Instead, he had put me to bed to sleep it off. I appreciated that—he was a real gentleman.
I know a lot of women like brooding, mysterious men with hidden trauma, and sure, that’s fine in romance books. But in real life, what you need is a mature, emotionally intelligent man who will be there for you when you need him. Maybe I had finally found one, even though he wasn’t really a man but an Orc.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Now, to start with, this is one of the strongest magic potions I’ve ever encountered,” Madam Healer said briskly.
The town doctor was an older woman with silver hair swept into an elegant chignon at the back of her neck. She was wearing a white lab coat and a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles pulled low on her elegant nose as she looked at the sample of purple potion Rath had brought her.
“I thought it might be potent,” Rath said, speaking to his phone screen, which he was holding up so both of us could see Madam Healer. “It, uh, seemed to have quite an effect on Sarah.”
I was glad he didn’t say what effect exactly. He had promised to keep the events of last night just between us, which I deeply appreciated.
“And you are the one who brewed it?” she asked, looking at me.
I nodded mutely. FaceTiming with a stranger was a little easier than talking face-to-face, but my words were still caught in my throat.
“And did you intend to brew a truth spell or a lust potion?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at me. “Because this concoction is both.”
I shook my head rapidly in negation. Rath must have seen my panicked look, because he spoke for me.
“Sarah didn’t mean to brew any kind of a potion,” he said quickly. “She just found a recipe in her Grandmother’s Grimoire and she thought it would help her be less shy. She has social anxiety and Selective Mutism,” he added.
“Selective what?” Madam Healer asked, frowning.
Rapidly, Rath explained. I was impressed that he got it right—he really had been listening to me when I told him about my condition.
“But Goody Albright thinks that the problem Sarah has speaking to strangers might have to do with her magic being bound,” he added. “She thinks that the spell binding her magic is binding her voice as well.”
“She does, does she?” Madam Healer frowned and then snapped her fingers. “Wait a minute—are you Elvira Pruitt’s granddaughter?”