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)
“How is this possible?” Dad inquires during his relocating to the same type of furniture opposite of me. “How did they find you? How did they rescue you? Because I know you, Dai. And I did the math. And you being taken was the only likely scenario for your leaving us.” He waits until she’s sitting beside him. “How did they take you? How did your Rage not protect you?”
“Always so many questions, my tiny Awaker.” She lovingly pats his cheek and has a swig of her drink. “I am grateful that has not changed, either.”
One of the words redirects Dad’s attention to me. “Is this why you’ve changed patterns over the past couple of weeks, Twiggy?” His brow pulls together in disapproval. “Is this why my calls haven’t been returned? Your texts so short? Plans for dinner repeatedly cancelled? Have you known about your mother’s whereabouts this whole time and felt guilty, so guilty about not telling me that you couldn’t even face me?”
Oh…well…that’s…definitely…part of it.
Yes.
“Have you been trying to figure out a way to tell me? Have you been cross referencing the best emotional tactics for introducing this new variant but old variant into our lives?”
“I am not old, half,” Mom needlessly corrects. “I am not even mid warrior years yet.”
“What’s the reason you convinced yourself for not telling me about your mom or your Fated Mate, Twiggy?” Hurt is unmistakable in his tone. “I thought you told me everything.”
“I thought you told me everything!” Losing my composure can’t be stopped, although the nagging nuance of Primal Thirst seems to be briefly paused. “Which evidently you fucking don’t! Why didn’t you tell me that I’m a half-orc?! Or about The Fog?! Or how about we start at the beginning with you telling me why in the fuck you’ve been poisoning us with Witch-Haze!”
“Witch-Haze is not a poison, daughter,” my mother informs between gulps, “and you are to not speak to your father that way. You may be in your less young warrior years now, but he is still an elder, and you shall treat him with such respect.”
“Why?” I swiftly snip. “I wasn’t given any when I was raised to believe—for most of my life I want to point out—that I was suffering from a mental disorder when in reality I was genetically a different species!”
“Refill,” P grumbles out to the servant floating around the room. “Maybe just leave the bottle with me.”
“Twiggy…,” Dad sympathetically croaks, body scooting to the edge of the seat, “I know this is going to be hard to hear, but I simply did what I had been instructed to do.”
“What?!”
“You were aware of your orc lineage prior to my disappearance, Cameron.” Mom places the mug down on the nearby coffee table at the same time Gene delivers P his glass request. “However, with you being a half-born, it was my responsibility to have a contingency plan for if something happened to me before you were the age of understanding—the thought being that I died in battle not managed to become captured. Your father, my tiny, always loving paper Awaker, wrote down the instructions word for word the night you were born, and it seems as though he followed them just the same.”
There’s no stopping my jaw from tumbling to my lap.
“He was instructed to temporarily put you both back in The Fog. It was never intended to be permanent regardless of my death or not. The momentary suspension was meant to last until The Great Ones connected your path to someone who could reopen your eyes to the life that once was.”
I unconsciously glance over my shoulder at P who promptly curls his hand around the nape of my neck for support.
“And I would do it again, Twiggy,” Dad lovingly promises. “You’re my daughter. I only did what I believed was best for you.”
“You may not approve of my decision or respect it at this time. However, it doesn’t matter.” She motions for Gene to bring her another drink. “I did what a mother should do even in her unexpected absence, which is protect her offspring by the best means possible.” Dad’s hand drops onto her enormous thigh causing a small lick of her lips to occur. “You will understand the instinct soon enough. Afterall, you are a bonded female to a shifter. You are likely to be with child by morning—if you aren’t already.”
Consternation cakes itself on my face at the same there’s a sharp hiss from behind me. “Excuse me?”
“Did the dragonborn not tell you?” Her head cocks to one side in confusion. “Fated Mates to them almost always get pregnant during their bonding session.”
One word is all I’m capable of bellowing. “What?!”
“You are still so loud to be so small,” Mom coos in pride.
You know…I’m not sure she realizes that isn’t the compliment that she thinks it is.