Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“Anyway.” I made short work of putting together the rest of the stew and checking the fire beneath. “Done and dusted. She’s gone, and if you all are to be believed, I don’t have long myself. Might as well enjoy what’s left of my miserable existence.”
I thought he might comment on my self-loathing sarcasm. Instead, he lifted his glass and said, “It’s a nightmare. Cheers! Let’s get drunk, then we’ll get high, you’ll get hate-fucked, I’ll play with my ding-dong, and we’ll all have a great night for once.”
An hour later, though, as the stew was bubbling away and almost on point in flavor, the alpha showed up with five people in tow. Their gazes were stern and their demeanors intense, their movements brusque with a certainty that screamed warrior.
Four of them had been in Granny’s cottage when I’d descended with the axe. The fifth was a woman called Nova, a very intense sort of person with an eye for detail and a firm handle on her duties. If she’d been in Raz’s place, we would’ve gotten twice as much done and had a ton more time for leisure activities.
Hadriel shoved me, looking up at all of them. “Quick, Aurelia, get your axe!”
“We’re almost ready, Alpha,” the cook said, a man whose name I’d forgotten because Hadriel kept calling him Burt. I had no idea why, only that Burt gave him a flat stare every time he did it. “Just a few more minutes—”
“An hour would be best for that meat, but it’ll be edible in a half hour,” I corrected.
Weston blinked at me for a moment, turned and glanced at the pots, and then down at the wine.
“She requested the wine.” Hadriel pointed at me. I spit out laughter.
“Let’s go,” he said, turning back. “We need to try your . . . product. We need to see what effect it has on pack bonds. Hurry, I want everything settled before full night.”
Hadriel bounced up in a flash, somehow avoiding spilling the wine that was now sloshing around in his glass.
I leaned over so I could brace my hand on the ground only to have Weston reach down to help me. I let him pull me up and then drank in his proximity. My body vibrated pleasantly from the alcohol, draining away my woes just as the relaxant had earlier. Within that lovely hum, I could feel his power beating through me. Into me almost, enticing me closer, daring me to take that leap.
“Okay, let’s go.” I stepped back.
The fleeting sun cast long shadows across the ground as we reached the carts. They’d been grouped together with the horses and donkeys stationed not far beyond. I felt more than saw wolves within the trees all around us, blending into the darkness as though made of shadows. They waited, their presence lethal, their duty to keep us safe. Well, keep the camp safe, I guessed. I was to be contained.
Weston stopped beside one of the carts and pulled back a tarp. Within the cart were the crates of my product, all of them unopened save two, and those had been tied back down.
“Not a very curious bunch,” I murmured, surveying them all. “You want the relaxant, right?” I got a nod. “Can I also get out the concoction I made for staving off pregnancy?”
“You have the tea. You don’t need your . . . product.” Weston slung his big arm over the edge of the cart, waiting.
“The tea is only mostly effective. It can be prepared wrong, and the effects can diminish if it isn’t consumed in a certain amount of time. The properties of the creation might not be in prime shape—there is a lot of room for error, and given the size and stamina of your locking ability. . .” I circled my finger, indicating his crotch. “I’d rather be safe. It’s no fun to kill a pregnant woman, after all. That might be a little too gruesome, even for someone as duty-bound as you.”
“Great gods, I fucking love this woman,” Hadriel said with a goofy smile. “Hits you right where it hurts.”
Weston’s jaw clenched, his body tightening up. “What is the concoction you made?”
“It’s edible, it is precise, and it gives you a little fizzle of joy when you eat it—like a high five for getting laid. Most importantly, it works. The people in the village have been using it for years. They don’t consume the tea at all, and given how little they like me, that’s saying something. It has worked far better than the tea did in the past.”
“I haven’t heard of it.”
“Granny hadn’t been sure how to sell it. People don’t tend to take leaps of faith where pregnancy is concerned. They want what they are sure works. A couple months ago she said to get it ready, that she might have a marketing tactic.” I shrugged. “I made more and here we are. This was the trial crate to see if she could sell it. Well, one of the crates in there is.”