Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Thólos.
She could think of that place now without vomiting, not that it didn’t sour her stomach all the same.
Making a mess of it, Claire tried to tidy up the split ends by herself. Even with jagged edges, she looked in the mirror and saw something that mattered.
She saw herself.
Green eyes. Scars that would be covered by a pretty dress. Black hair. Pale skin. Cowardice.
“My name is Claire O’Donnell. I am the wife of Shepherd O’Donnell. Our son’s name is Collin. And he would have been two this month.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she looked herself in the eye and stated, “I am going to a movie. Everything will be okay.”
When Shepherd woke, she was already in the kitchen. Trying out another concoction that might make his green sludge taste less like rotting garbage.
Smiling at a man with his hair sticking in every direction, Claire circled the counter to press a kiss to his lips. “Shepherd O’Donnell, would you like to take in a film with me tonight?”
The man’s agitation… Claire was used to it. She even smirked when he accused, “You took my COM.”
With obnoxiously wide eyes, Claire teased, “I called Dr. Osin and enacted Project Baker.”
Rumbling, Shepherd narrowed his eyes. “You should not go through my COM.”
“Is that really what date night was called?” Cackling from the look on his face, tears came to Claire’s eyes. “I was joking!”
Handing him a large glass filled with the most unappetizing shade of green Claire might imagine, she said, “Bottoms up. We are expected within the hour.”
Because it needed to be said, Claire explained to the man chugging down a meal that no blend of fruit or herbs might ever make palatable, “And to be clear, I am not talking to anyone but you.”
One stiff hand hosted a chilled coupe sparkling with a pink drink. Claire’s other palm gripped tightly to Shepherd’s hand, their fingers interlaced. Sweating profusely, she hid her body behind her mate’s mass and peered around him to soak up the quaint cobblestone courtyard.
Pruned shrubbery outlined the formal shape of the space. Wrought iron tables displayed an array of snacks. Cushioned chairs had been prepared for relaxing.
Candles flickered, casting soft light that warmed the evening air.
Not that the courtyard needed warmth. Greth Dome was downright balmy, sticky hot with the season as if the sweltering temperatures of the jungle seeped in—just as snow had once seeped into Thólos.
Yet it was always darker in this new place.
Endless fields of glittering white had made the sun shine so bright in Thólos’ eternal winter. Sometimes… it had been blinding.
Greth was softer on the eyes, despite the bright colors favored by its people.
“Little one, where would you like to sit?”
Speechless, aware of the irony, considering it had been her decision to contact Dr. Osin and order the event. Claire didn’t even know where to begin.
Her husband had planned this down to the last twinkling bulb. She could never pretend it was not extremely pretty and very sweet.
“I think I’d like to stand.” Claire took a sip of the drink in her hand. Pulling back from the coup with a look. “This has alcohol.”
“It’s a local drink, a Caipirinha, with muddled strawberries.”
Tongue tracing a bottom lip sweetened by sugar, Claire admitted, “I can’t even remember the last time I had a cocktail in public.”
All male, grumbly with the pleasure of seeing his female enjoy herself, her husband swelled with pride. So much so, he might actually have burst out of his shirt.
Teasing, she held the drink up in offer. “Want to try it?”
“Yes.” Shepherd fell upon her, taking her lips to suck them clean and then delving deeper to capture every last trace of sugar.
He kissed her as if he didn’t care who might see or how vulnerable they might be when distracted. And then he kissed her some more.
Bending her back with the heat of his kiss, he drank deep—filled her with breath when she gasped for air, and invaded her mouth with his tongue.
Claire… had never been kissed in public. Modest and blushing when he pulled back to take the drink from her hands and swallow.
Suddenly shy, she glanced at the party of strangers to see who might be watching. “I feel like I’m being courted.”
“Hmm.” The man who had woken in her perfect nest and drank his gross dinner grinned.
Shepherd grinned.
“Stop that! You’re making me nervous.”
“I love you, little one.”
Rubbing at her breastbone, Claire offered a very distracted reply, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too. But please stop that. It’s not safe.”
Because if she dripped slick, terrible things would follow. An Omega could never, ever, be aroused in public. She had not committed to this to inspire a bloodbath.
“Claire.”
She’d heard him speak, but she was still checking every corner, praying nothing might drip from her vagina to scent the gusset of her panties.