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)
Even though I should be used to it by now, I still can’t get over the way Ulfarri people have such a wide range of skin and hair color combinations. I have yet to see anyone with typical human skin tones—from any region on Earth—but Ma says there are Ulfarri with dark hair and skin like mine, far up the coast. Ulfarri also have full-body, tattoo-esque markings, which I obviously lack. I can blend in, as long as I wear my cloak so people don’t look too closely. One more reason to wear a hood.
The Alpha turns his head and meets my gaze. His eyes narrow and I take a step back.
My hood has slipped off. A prickle of panic tickles my spine. I bend, pretending to fuss with the pouch at my waist, where I’ve hidden the silver coins I’ve earned today. The knife is tucked into my belt beside it, still in its sheath. I let my fingers play over it for a moment. With my head still bowed, I slide the hood back up, praying the soldier will stop paying attention to me.
The Alpha grunts something I don’t catch. I dip my head in answer and hope that’s the right response. It must be, because after a few endless seconds, he moves on.
I grab my baskets. Time to skedaddle.
It’s sweltering hot, especially in this cloak. Sweat trickles down my back, making my dress itch. Too bad I can’t jump in the river—I’m burning up in this midday heat. I should head straight home, but my stomach won’t let me pass by my favorite booth that sells sweet cakes. I stop to buy some for lunch. Leelah, the one who bakes them, is distracted, constantly peering around and beyond me as she puts together my order.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Tensions are high,” she says in a whisper, tucking a strand of bright orange hair behind her pointed bronze ear. “They always get like this when it’s time to pay the king’s tithe. Not to mention, there’s some kind of sickness going around. My father says he hasn’t seen symptoms like it since—” She falls silent, lowering her head and busying herself with wrapping my cakes. A shadow falls over the stall.
It’s the Alpha from before. Did he follow me? Shitshitshit—
“Here you go,” Leelah chirps, handing me my package. She turns her smile to the soldier. “What can I get for you?”
He mumbles something that sounds more like a growl than words, but she obviously understands him just fine, since she nods and starts putting items together.
When I first arrived, I was able to understand Ma even though there was no way she was speaking English. After looking me over carefully, she deduced I had been given some kind of translation chip. I can feel the bump behind my ear, but I don’t like to touch it so I avoid it as much as I can. It took me a while but now I’m used to it translating speech in my head, although I don’t think I’ll ever stop struggling when I hear the Alphas talk.
The soldier and I are both watching Leelah fill his order. I should leave but I haven’t paid yet, and I want to know what else Leelah has heard about this mystery illness. Knowledge is power, after all, and if Ma does have it…
The hair on my arms lifts. The Alpha is staring at me. His eyes are slightly unfocused, and his nostrils flare as he inhales slowly. Is he… smelling me?
I take a step sideways, away from him, and surreptitiously duck my head to sniff my cloak. Did I sweat off my deodorant? Ma makes this herbal balm that works wonders, but maybe it’s worn off.
“Here you go.” Leelah comes to the rescue, holding the bag out for the soldier.
He blinks, then turns his head back to face her. “Thanks,” he mutters, taking his order from her.
“No charge,” Leelah says, her voice tight. “Thank you for your service to the king.”
The Alpha grunts his assent, and leaves.
My shoulders droop and I let my breath ease out of me. Being the object of that stare was intense. If Ma ever finds out I drew the attention of a big bad Alpha—twice—she’ll never let me come to the market again.
“Are you all right?” There’s a little crease of concern on Leelah’s brow.
“Of course. But Matron started feeling sick last night. Should I be worried?”
“Was she flushed?”
I hesitate, trying to remember how she looked the last time I saw her. “Maybe a little?”
“Oh, no.” The furrow in Leelah’s brow deepens before she mutters under her breath, “The Red Death.”
My heart drops straight through my stomach into my boots. “That doesn’t sound good,” I manage.
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet but there are whispers that this is another curse just like the Red Death. Of course, it might not be—”