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)
Khalil’s jaw locks. “It was none of your damn business.”
“None of my business? He just tried to kill me!”
“But did you die? No. So stop fucking whining and join the club.”
I do hit him, then, but a slap is much too easy for this bastard, so I punch him in the throat as hard as I can.
Let’s see how he likes it.
“That’s for taking your sweet fucking time,” I say with a growl as Khalil gags and coughs.
Recovering quicker than I did, he grabs my hair and shakes me around like a rag doll before sticking his face in mine and roaring, “Why do you always have to be such a fucking bitch?”
“Fuck you!”
Khalil’s only response is to toss my ass on the couch like I’m a sack of flour. I huff and sit up quickly because it’s on and fucking popping now. Snatching that useless fucking lamp from the table, I raise it in the air.
“Aurelia, don’t you fucking dare,” Khalil warns right before I send it sailing toward his head. He ducks, and it hits the wall behind him before shattering into several large pieces. Khalil looks at the destroyed lamp before his unamused gaze travels to me. “You’re a fucking psycho, you know that?”
“I’m just getting started, Khalil.”
He sighs and rubs his eyes but stays where he is. “I’m too fucking tired for this shit, baby. You can have this one. Next time Seth has a nightmare, come get Thorin or me. Don’t touch him.”
My lips curl despite the butterflies in my tummy at hearing him call me baby. It’s sick how right it sounds. “Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I wouldn’t dream of touching that animal again.”
“Do not call him that.” Khalil takes a warning step forward. “You have no idea what’s he been through!”
“Oh, boo-hoo,” I mock.
A moan comes from Seth’s direction, and I flinch, thinking he might be coming to.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Khalil.
“Aurelia…” He sighs again. “Go sleep upstairs.”
“I don’t want to share a bed with Thorin.”
“He wouldn’t let you if you tried. We have another couch, in case you forgot.”
Relieved, I take my blanket because it’s super soft and did a great job of keeping me warm. I start for the stairs, peering over my shoulder as I go to see Khalil hauling an unconscious Seth into his room.
When I reach the mini landing midway up the stairs and turn, I see Thorin standing at the top with his hands in his pockets. He’s shrouded in the darkness looming behind him, but I know it’s him. He looks me over and, seeing me still in one piece, turns to head to his room without a word.
The first thing I notice is that it’s warmer upstairs. The sounds of the wild are louder, too, but the predators lurking beyond these walls are the least of my worries. I have my hands full with the ones inside.
I tiptoe over to the couch inside the cavernous living room and glare at the closed door of Thorin’s room before making myself at home on the ratty couch.
I can’t believe this is my life right now.
I’m Aurelia George.
I shit gold and wipe my ass with money. I’ve convinced millions of people to worship me with only my voice, marketable face, and carefully curated persona because my real one sucks. It’s like defusing a bomb with a paper clip and your eyes closed.
Total fucking bullshit, but people buy into it.
And yet these Neanderthals have turned me into their whore and made me sleep on the floor.
I get comfortable fast and start to drift, but every creak of the cabin startles me awake, and I start the process all over again.
It’s been a long day, one of the longest in my life, and I still can’t sleep. Somehow, I have to find a way to be up before dawn without an alarm to wake me, so I can make my captors breakfast and see them off when they leave and wait for them to return like a proper pet.
I eventually succumb to my exhaustion and sleep through the night.
The best part is that I don’t dream.
AURELIA
The cabin is quiet without the crackling of wood, so I know it must be morning when I feel my blanket being pulled off me. The fires from the stoves will have gone out by now, so the morning air breezes over my skin, but the cold isn’t the reason for my goose bumps.
Futilely, I keep my eyes closed and my breathing even in the hopes that I won’t be subjected to more of their attention, but I should have known better than to think playing dead would work.
I can’t help but lock up, giving my awareness away the moment I feel the heavy weight of a feral mountain men climbing on top of me. I know who it is the moment I smell his scent—warm and spicy and wild. My eyes fly open against my will, and I can see for myself that it’s morning.