Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Moaning, she burrowed into the source. How delightful. Both velvety soft and steel hard at once.
A hungry growl joined the outer clatter. A low-impact quake followed.
Threat? Her eyes sprang open, the act no longer a struggle. She took stock, cataloguing everything at once. Tattoos. Multiple silos, all windowed and as tall as skyscrapers. Dirt streets, not the cobblestone paths she was used to seeing. Groups of unfamiliar women of varying species wore primitive leather dresses and mingled about. Some stood near steaming pots and roasting game. Some trained with blades and spears. In a nearby pond, others washed clothes.
Whoever they were, whatever their task, they stopped to stare at her with expressions of awe. Hmm. What if they weren’t focused on her, but the male who constrained her?
The male. Her maybe, maybe not consort. But he must be. No way she was nestled against some strange man’s chest. But...
Something’s wrong. What wasn’t she remembering? What, what? She poked and prodded at the song barrier, desperate for answers, but the melody endured, unbroken.
Determined, Blythe fought inside and out, twisting and contorting, seeking freedom from both the song and the male.
He held tight. When a handful of observers rushed over, he tensed. Did the women intend to help her? Hope crested—every female reached out—and crashed. They merely sought to caress him.
“Do not dare,” a gravelly voice snapped. His voice. The male’s.
Exclamations came, one after another. “Ahhh! He even sounds like sex!”
“Where did you find him, and how long can I rent him?”
“A real-life slice of man-candy!”
“We’ll be making an announcement about him soon,” someone called. “Now back off. We gotta get him settled in at the palace first. Oh, and no one touches the piece of glass in his arms.”
Glass? Blythe?
“I will gut anyone who tries.” His every word dripped with promise. “Understand?”
She went still. He protects me?
Amid rising murmurs, she poured what remained of her strength into eradicating the song. Finally, the notes split down the middle, memories surging forth. Laban. Invasion. Betrayal. Ation. Wraith. Roux.
Rage fueled her hatred, heating the ruby and bringing more of that dreaded weakness. But no matter. You didn’t always need to be the strongest opponent to win a battle; you just had to be more determined. She erupted, hissing, cursing, and clawing.
“How are you so soft and so vicious at the same time?” he muttered.
She squirmed and fought and bucked. But the ruby continued to heat and weakness continued to flood in, allowing the song to repair itself. The next thing she knew, her memories vanished, and she was floating away in an ocean of nothingness.
* * *
“This is where you’ll be staying.”
Roux couldn’t identify the speaker. The entire welcome party had crammed into a hallway at the top of the “palace.” A silo set in the center of a circle of nineteen other silos.
With Blythe in his arms, he pushed past the group. Any blip of contact razed already-razed nerves. There. A door. He shouldered his way into a spacious bedroom.
“Feel free to drop off your baggage and join us on the third floor for a quick game of strip poker. Don’t worry. We won’t let you be late for your first da—”
He kicked the door shut, ending her invitation.
A quick scan revealed lavishly detailed furniture made from wood, stones, and metals. Candles flickered throughout, tinging the air with the fragrance of magnolia and melting wax. A set of open windows lured in golden sunlight and a cool breeze.
He teleported his backpack to a cushioned chair near the crackling hearth, then strode to the four-poster canopied bed. As gently as possible, he placed his sleeping bundle atop the mattress. He meant to walk away and find her clean clothes, but the sight of her arrested him.
Black locks spread over a white pillow, framing a face too lovely to be real. Long lashes fanned out, reminding him of a peacock’s plumage. The most ridiculous thought he’d ever entertained. For once, her plump red lips weren’t set in a grim line, turned down in a frown, or curved in a calculating grin. No, they were slightly parted, as if she prepared for his kiss.
His breath hitched. That. That was the most ridiculous thought he’d ever entertained. As if she would ever wish to kiss him.
Trying not to care, he reached out and traced a fingertip over the glistening ruby embedded in her throat. Warm. Because she burned?
A now familiar heat infiltrated his being, as wonderful as it was terrible. With a huff, he pivoted to begin his search for clothing at last. A chore requiring less than thirty seconds. The desired items hung in a wardrobe on the other side of the room. A plethora of leather tops, shirts, dresses, and sheer gowns. A pale blue one caught his notice. The perfect match for her eyes.
Not select it? Impossible.