Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
"We think the dragon is going to land, sir," one of the men tells me unnecessarily as I move forward.
Idiot. Of course the dragon is going to land. I can smell now that it's the one from the walls, the one I lost control of, the one that the female said she met in her dreams. He has returned with his female on his back, and when I prod at his mind, I'm shut out quickly and firmly. Unsurprising, but irritating.
I compose myself, keeping my face bland as the dragon makes lazy circles overhead, teasing a landing. Behind me, I can scent Melina's approach, and my blackened heart thuds heavily. Even now, she pretends to be my supportive mate. I am utterly unworthy of her.
Silent, I watch as the dragon finally descends. He lands easily on the ground, and I take another stab at his mind, but it is sealed off firmly. I can feel a flare of annoyance that the drakoni sends back. He's aware of what I'm doing and he doesn't like it. Judging by the glare on his mate's face, she doesn't like it, either. As she descends off her dragon's back, the look she gives me is both scathing and superior.
Something tells me this is going to go badly.
She takes a few steps forward, her chin held high. "First, let me say—"
"Inside," I snap. If she means to make obnoxious demands—and judging from the look on her face, she does—she'd best do it in private. I hate that I must humor all these pregnant females and their mates. They have me trapped, all because I happen to want to defeat the evil one in the Rift. I know if she asks for things, I must give in, because I need the child she will produce on our side. I hate how helpless it makes me feel, though. I hate all of it. I turn and see Rachel and Gwen and their mates standing next to Melina, and it is as if the entire fort has suddenly turned out to see my humiliation. "All of you, inside," I bellow. I turn and glare at the guards waiting nearby. "You—back to your posts."
Melina picks up her skirts and heads for our home, and I ache, wondering if it will be our home after tonight. I can feel the hurt vibrating off of her, the betrayal she feels.
I am losing her. I am losing everything.
The new female—Janie? Jenny?—stands next to her dragon and gives me a smug look. If this is a test of wills, now is not the time to be fucking with me. I snarl at the drakoni male, still in battle-form. "When I say we are doing this inside, I mean all of us. Your dragon will need to shift as a show of trust."
The female crosses her arms, a stubborn look on her face. "But we don't trust you."
"Well, then, we're not going to get very far with these negotiations, are we?" I say, and storm away to end the conversation. If she wishes to speak to me, she can come and join me in the dining hall. I gesture for the gawking servants to follow along, since I seem to be feeding all my enemies and keeping them close to me lately. Melina sits at her normal spot at my side, her expression carefully blank. I dare not look over at her.
I'm not surprised that the female follows us in a short moment later, her male at her side. They sit at the opposite end of the table, and the look on the female's face is downright cocky. "We're going to need dinner," she demands. "A good one. Not that shit you serve the soldiers and the girls in the program. Real food. The stuff you eat. And fresh water that's been filtered, preferably cold."
So it's going to be like that, eh? "It's always the quiet ones," I say aloud for her benefit, and ring a small metal bell to let the waiting servants know we wish to be served. "Dinner for my guests and a pitcher of cool water." When the servant turns and leaves, I eye the female at the end of the table. Jenny, I think. Her name was Jenny. "Name your demands."
"I'd like dinner first," she says, her tone fake. "You wouldn't want to keep pregnant ladies waiting, would you?"
"Then you are pregnant?"
"I didn't say that." She gestures at Rachel and Gwen. "They're pregnant. They probably want to eat."
"All the time," Gwen admits. "All the damn time."
I drum my fingers on the table and dare a glance over at my mate as the servants come in. Her gaze is distant, as if she's here physically but not here with me. Desperate, I tap at her mind, but there is no response. Humans don't have mental speech.