Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Is it not enough that I refused to let her leave and persuaded her to be my queen, chaining her to someone as monstrous as me? Must I also claim her with the bite, binding her body and soul to me, forever? The bond is so strong, she could never leave me. A blessing, but also a curse. After all, my parents’ soul-bond was the reason my mother died…
I push those dark thoughts away to focus on Rose’s face. I cannot let that happen to her. It would break me. But my basest instincts to claim my Omega will only grow stronger until I do it. Will I always be able to resist?
Rose jerks in my arms. Her sudden, sharp wail makes me jump. “No! Don’t leave me!” she cries, and starts thrashing about as if running somewhere.
She’s having another nightmare. In a flash, I’ve pulled her tighter against me. I stroke her damp forehead, my purr reverberating through us both. “Hush, my little moonflower, it’s all right. You’re safe. You’re with me.”
Usually, when I speak to comfort her in these situations, she stays asleep but her face relaxes and she settles down. This time, it’s different. I almost jump out of my skin when her eyes fly open and she stares at me with a look of sheer agony that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Rose?” I whisper.
“He… he… left me,” she manages, still looking at but somehow not really seeing me.
Then, burying her face in my chest, she bursts into tears.
Rose
Abandoned at the altar. Jilted bride. Runaway groom. Phrases straight out of descriptions for chick flicks, historical dramas, romance novels—and, apparently, my life.
It happened to me.
Bestian is purring but I’m so distraught that not even his usually reassuring rumble is doing much to soothe me right now.
I went through every agonizing second of that day in my dream in vivid, horrifying technicolor—waking up full of excitement and nerves, getting ready, the photographer, giggling with my smiling maid of honor—a friend from modeling. My estranged family wasn’t invited so when I got to the church, my proud agent was the one who walked me down the long aisle towards the groom.
My fiancé.
Russell stood there in his suit, looking almost too handsome. Too shiny. Too perfect. But when I got close enough to really see his eyes, they were… blank. Devoid of the pride and love I had hoped to see. Chalking that up to nerves, I took my place beside him, in front of all our gathered friends and acquaintances, my bouquet trembling as I handed it to my maid of honor.
The officiant had barely begun to speak before Russell blurted out, “This is a mistake. I have to go. I can’t marry you, Rose.” While my world tilted on its axis and my heart shattered into a million pieces, he turned, strode briskly down the aisle, and was gone.
I rub my forehead. Did that really happen? To me? If so, how could I possibly have forgotten about it? Now, in the cold light of dawn, with Bestian clutching me tight, the humiliation is rolling over me in waves, hot and shameful. For Russell to wait until I was actually standing in the church with him, to reject me in front of pretty much everybody I knew—somehow, that betrayal was even worse than the loss of his love.
“Talk to me,” Bestian says, his fingertips catching a tear as it spills over. “A bad dream?”
“Yes. But I don’t think it was just a dream. I think it was a real memory.”
“What happened?”
Part of me wants to confide in him. Then again, talking about it means reliving it. Again. And I want to forget it again as soon as possible. Not to mention, judging by the way he sometimes reacts whenever I so much as refer to having known a guy before him, Bestian might seethe with jealousy and I’ll have to talk him down. I don’t have the emotional capacity for that right now. I just want to stuff the whole thing back down into my subconscious.
“Rose?”
He sounds so concerned, I feel guilty for shutting him out. But the alternative is worse.
“Please,” I whisper, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You said you trusted me.” I can tell he’s trying to stay calm but he sounds hurt.
“I know. And I do. It’s just… too painful right now. You can understand that, right?”
“Who left you?”
His words make me jerk in his arms. “What?”
“You were crying out. You said that he left you. Who left you, Rose?”
Fuck. I must have been talking in my sleep. “That must have been a different dream or something,” I lie. “I don’t remember anyone leaving me.” Bestian is so possessive, the thought of me pining for any other guy—even if those feelings are long gone—would drive him nuts.