Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Abbey frowned.
“What about the different weeks of the Claiming Period?” she demanded. “The Holding Week…the Bathing Week…the, uh, Tasting Week…?”
“We don’t have to do any of that if you don’t want to,” he promised. “And if you change your mind, we can flip it on its head—you can touch me but I won’t touch you. Not unless you ask me to.”
Abbey gave him a skeptical look.
“Really? You’re willing to promise me all that just to keep me around for a month?”
“I’m willing to promise almost anything.” His deep voice was hoarse. “You don’t know how rare it is, to find your fated mate. I can’t let you slip through my fingers if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”
Abbey frowned, thinking it over. Then she leaned forward.
“Let me have my hands back and then I want you to hold still,” she told him.
“All right.” Instead of asking questions, he allowed her hands to slip from his and then went completely still before her.
Carefully, Abbey reached for him and put her hands on his face. She knew it was another blind-girl cliché—she didn’t really need to do this. But she wanted to feel his features—his expression—she wanted to see if he was really sincere. She couldn’t help remembering the smirking smile she’d felt on Henry’s face when they were alone together—not that he liked letting her touch his face.
“C’mon, babe—that’s enough,” he’d say, moving away when she tried to touch him. It hadn’t seemed it at the time, but now Abbey wondered if he’d been trying to hide his true emotions and intentions. And she wondered if Solon was trying to hide something as well.
But the big Kindred didn’t try to brush her hands away. He knelt in front of her patiently as she ran her fingers delicately over his face, tracing his high cheekbones and strong brows…the broad, flat bridge of his nose and the deep sockets of his eyes. He had short, dense fur that felt silky and smooth against her fingertips and surprisingly long lashes for a man, she thought. His face felt honest—if that made any sense—though it also felt stern.
She didn’t think that Solon was the type to joke around a lot—though of course she could be wrong. Possibly his face just felt serious right now because of the extremely serious conversation they’d been having.
His hair was like a lion’s mane, wild and silky and full and the twisting horns that grew from his temples felt like living wood. They were pointed at the ends but not sharp enough to cut her finger. She wouldn’t have to worry about them much, since he was so much taller than her—there was no possibility of her running into them, she thought.
Through the whole examination he stayed still and didn’t complain a bit. In fact, Abbey got the distinct impression that he liked having her hands on him, though he didn’t directly say so. It was just a feeling she got from him.
“All right,” she said at last, withdrawing her fingers. “I believe you. I don’t know why, but I do.”
“Thank you.” He blew out a breath. “Then you’ll stay with me for the Claiming Period?”
“Do I have a choice?” Abbey raised her eyebrows at him.
“Legally, no. But if you say you want to go, I’ll let you. I don’t want to—I want a chance to get to know you. But I understand that it must be incredibly difficult for you to trust a male again after…after what happened to you,” he said in a low voice.
Abbey took a deep breath and considered. Only half an hour ago she would have jumped at the chance to go home. But now, strangely, she felt different. She felt as though Solon understood her somehow—understood but didn’t judge—which definitely wasn’t a feeling she’d ever gotten from a man before.
Also, the big Monstrum had a soothing, calming presence about him that made her want to trust him, even though she’d sworn never to trust anyone male again. It made her reluctant to leave him because it was so extremely unusual.
“Can I think about it?” she asked at last. “I mean, what if we do a kind of trial run? Give it twenty-four hours and then see how I feel.”
His response was immediate.
“Whatever makes you comfortable, lelka.”
“Okay. Well right now what would make me feel comfortable is dry clothes and a warm cup of tea.” She raised her eyebrows at him again. “Can you do anything about that?”
“I can make you a hot cup of T’sane brew,” he responded. “I don’t have any clothing your size, but you can wear one of my shirts while I put your own clothes through a drying cycle. I believe because of our size difference it will cover you like the garment you humans call a ‘dress.’”
“All right.” She nodded. “But I don’t want to change in here—I don’t want to risk falling into that pool again.”