Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
"All aliens are ugly to human eyes," she points out.
"I find you ugly, too," I admit.
A startled laugh escapes her, and the sound sends a ripple of pleasure through my system. I want to hear that again. My claws flex with hunger and need.
"I like your laugh," I admit, my voice a low, throaty growl of pleasure. "Do it again."
She stiffens, and the fear-scent flickers.
"I will not hurt you," I tell her, nudging the juice back toward her. She doesn't look inclined to take it, however. Instead, she clasps her hands in her lap and stares down at them. Her fear-scent ebbs, but I get the impression that she is trying to make herself…less, somehow. To shrink away out of sight. I do not like it. I want her to look at me. I try to get her attention once more. "Mina."
The collar on her neck flashes and she lets out a little whimper of pain, her hands flying to her throat.
Confused, my growl deepens. I do not like her distress. "What—"
She looks out into the hall and then gets to her feet. "I have to go."
Go?
She cannot go. She's mine now. "You're staying," I say, getting up. I glance out into the hall and the scientist is there, his expression impassive. "They gave you to me."
But Mina's collar is flashing a warning, and she looks anxious as she clutches her throat. She heads for the door.
I step in front, blocking her from it. "You are mine. They promised." Her fear-scent is back, but I ignore it. She will not be afraid when the collar is gone. I reach for it, and when it lights up with another buzz of electric shock, I snap the soft metal under my claws and toss it aside. She rubs her red throat, staring up at me in surprise.
"Mine," I snarl.
"The female is just visiting for your meal," the scientist says on the other side of the glass. "Let her go."
"You said she was mine."
"No, you said you wanted to see her. I complied." His voice is cold and logical, and even as he speaks, he taps something into his data pad. "Now it's up to you to keep your side of the bargain. Let her go."
"You lied." Rage blisters through my veins, and I feel the adrenaline in my body rising. I keep the female protectively behind me, placing her between my larger bulk and the wall. If they want to touch her, they'll have to destroy me first.
"I did not lie. I said she would join you. I did not say for how long. Frankly, Crulden, you can't be trusted with a female." He gestures at me through the glass. "Look at how you're reacting."
He wants to see a reaction? He hasn't seen anything yet.
9
MINA
I plaster myself to the wall, trying to stay safe as Crulden rages and paces in the cell in front of me.
This is all a nightmare. Not only did they make me go into the cell with a dangerous, feral gladiator, they made him think he could keep me. Now that he can't—and I'm glad that he can't—he's losing his mind. I worry that it won't take much for that mad rage to be turned onto me. So I try to stay out of the way. Make myself small. Keep out of the strike zone.
Quiet. Calm.
I rub my neck where he snapped my shock-collar as if it was nothing. It's like…he's trying to prove they can't hold me. Not from him. Sure enough, there's a magnetic hum behind my back and the sound of the magnetism coming online. As I watch, Crulden snarls again, his tusks shiny with rage as one arm is forcefully yanked behind him. Then another. He goes flying backward, his body slamming into the wall. That's it, then. They'll shoot him up with drugs and that'll be the end of this little experiment. I can go back to the kitchens and just disappear amongst the rest of the slaves.
But Crulden's rage only grows as he hits the wall. I stare up at him, at his ugly face with the almost-snout and the enormous teeth that his lips won't quite close over. His claws have extended into long, wicked talons that look as if they could gut me in thirty seconds flat. As I watch, he twists on the wall, trying to work free from the cuffs. A split second later, there's a crack of bone and one hand rips free in a shower of blood and an angry cry from him. He tears at his other cuff and the shock-collar on his neck, and within moments, he's got them all off and flung to the ground, the collars still sizzling and sparking.
His shoulders heave and he looks around wildly. His eyes have flooded with red, like a blood vessel has burst, and it adds to his sinister appearance as he crouches on the ground, looking ready to pounce.