Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
His is the last I see before I succumb to sleep.
THORIN
Khalil’s the first to enter the cabin, with Zeke trailing behind him and me bringing up the rear. We silently shed our heavy coats and boots in the mudroom before we go our separate ways.
Something feels off, but I dismiss it for being gone longer than we planned. This morning, we’d been readying to set out and look for the survivors when an avalanche large and close enough to make our cabin groan in agony had us leaving in a hurry to investigate. The single male boot we’d found buried in the snow had kept us searching for hours to no avail.
Zeke disappears downstairs to the basement to sulk, and neither of us goes after him. He needs the space to work his shit out, and since we can’t keep an eye on him twenty-four seven, we learned to trust him not to do anything stupid.
Khalil stomps into the living room and beelines for the second-hand recliner with a permanent print of his ass. I’m about to head for the kitchen for a drink to warm my blood when I hear Khalil bark, “Yo, what the fuck?”
“If it’s a spider, forget it,” I call out as I enter the kitchen. “Man up and deal with this one yourself.” I quickly locate the gin, but when I don’t hear a peep from Khalil, I don’t bother with a cup and carry the bottle into the living room.
Khalil’s back is to me, so I can’t see what startled him. I’m about to ask what his deal is when he slowly turns. There’s a heavy winter coat clutched in his brown hand, but it’s not one of ours.
Time seems to slow, and then it speeds up before I can process what it means. I snatch the coat out of Khalil’s hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice because something else catches his attention.
A pair of boots are by the fireplace, and a blood-stained scarf is lying next to it. The boots are small, too small for whoever this coat belongs to.
Whoever broke in is not alone.
I think about the tracks we found in the cave, and my gaze rises to meet my brother’s.
Khalil’s chest expands from the breath he takes.
“Someone’s here,” I say hoarsely.
Nothing else needs to be said. We race for the stairs at the same time. I reach them first, but I can feel Khalil hot on my heels as we make our way to the basement.
“Zeke!” Khalil calls.
He doesn’t respond, and my heart is in my stomach, which is twisting and crumbling the dead organ to dust by the time we reach the den.
A shadow moves inside Khalil’s room, so I bend and remove my handgun from my ankle holster. I creep toward the bedroom, removing the safety as I go. I can’t see or hear it because Khalil is an apex predator, but I know he’s doing the same.
The door is open, and one of the bedside lamps is on, so when I enter, I spot Zeke immediately.
He’s still while he stares at the bed, and even though I can only see his profile, it’s enough. The curiosity, the excitement, the mischief…
I inhale sharply.
He knows we’re here, but he doesn’t acknowledge us. It isn’t until I’m brave enough to take my eyes off Zeke’s body for even a second that I see what has his attention.
I almost forget the real threat in the room when I see her.
A girl.
There’s a fucking girl.
She’s passed out in Khalil’s bed, her unkempt golden curls fanned out on his pillow. That ridiculous green and brown dress she’s wearing makes her look like some kind of milkmaid in a porn rag. It’s torn and filthy, but not nearly as much as my thoughts.
The girl obviously needs rescuing, and while my military training demands I answer the call, the darker side of me wants to be the thing she needs rescuing from.
The hem of her dress is bunched around her thighs, and my fingers curl, itching to touch, mark, and own that silky brown flesh. Her tits are spilling out of the torn white bodice, kept in place only by the embroidered corset.
She’s dirty and probably terrified if she was foolish enough to wander where she’s not wanted, but I still want to sink my teeth into her.
Her chest is moving up and down, so she’s alive, which poses a problem.
Zeke’s head slowly turns toward me, but the person staring back at me isn’t my best friend.
I know that smile.
He looks like the rabid cat that tortured the canary before eating it, like shit hitting the fan, like trouble on the horizon.
Seth.
Khalil impatiently edges around me and into his room when I continue to block the doorway. He’s beelining for the closet to check for monsters when Seth speaks.