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)
If the constant chatter kept the dark thing from my thoughts, I might be more appreciative…but it doesn't. The thing in the Rift slithers through my mind every time I relax, prying, seeking ways to worm inside my head. I remain vigilant, but I am fraying upon all sides.
Even all that is not as bad as being alone.
I miss Melina. I miss my mate. I long for her touch, for her soft body pressed up against mine, her smooth, silky voice calling my name. I miss our conversations over books, and the way she laughed when I would eat the sweet parts of my meal first. I miss everything about her, and the loss of her has left me hollow in ways that the Rift evil's lurking presence never could.
For the first time since I arrived here, I have felt lonely. I never thought I would need anyone. Salorians do not, after all. They need nothing. But Melina taught me that I could soften. That I could welcome her into my life and it would be better. And now that she is gone, there is a hole inside me that no amount of work can fill.
Melina left me behind the night I freed the drakoni prisoners, and has never returned to my side.
It wounds me that she could abandon me so quickly. That she can simply leave me and never feel remorse. Meanwhile, I have been lost without her. I make my guards report back on her actions at all times. I ensure she is given good food, the proper clothing, and that her clinic is staffed with as many people as she can handle. Even if she does not want me, I will take care of her. I will let her know I am waiting nearby, should she wish to return.
She never returns, though.
I start to worry that I've gone too far. That I've hit—and passed—the boundary of what my mate would find acceptable, and I've lost her forever. The idea of staying here in this world without her at my side feels like burning agony in my chest…but I can't leave.
Someone has to take care of her. Someone has to ensure that she's safe and fed and she's not working herself too hard. Even if I cannot touch her, it is my duty to look after her because she owns my heart and soul.
Because I have fallen in love with her, I will remain here always. This is now my world, because she is in it.
So I do what I can to make it a better place. I work hard for the fort. I cut back on my lavish meals and speak to the staff to find out their thoughts. I learn that my voluminous, sweeping robes are troublesome for the laundry servants to keep clean, so I switch to a darker robe that hides the dirt and has less fabric. If I must be human, I must learn to be an excellent human.
I may no longer act like a Salorian, but Salorian ambitions will always stay with me.
Laying in bed, I listen to the children speak to each other. It is early, the dawn not yet turning the skies from twilight's purple to orange. I stare up at the ceiling of my room, and my quarters feel cold and empty. I think of Melina, how lucky I was to wake up and roll over and touch her glorious, satiny skin. How I could just bury my face between her thighs at any time and revel in her taste and scent. I was a fool to let all of that slip away.
What is a fool? Tunjozefren bellows into my head. His thoughts are like lightning, bright and streaking across the calm with such intensity that I flinch.
I am, I reply back, feeling bitterly full of self-loathing. I sit up in bed, rubbing my face. You can tell your father I said that. He will get a good laugh at my expense.
Papa is sleeping, Tunjozefren replies. Why are you not sleeping?
Because you are bellowing in my ear.
What's an ear?
I bite back a sigh, sending a mental image of an ear to him. He won't remember. The children sound smart, their mental voices strong, but their minds are still developing. They do not retain what I tell them, and their thoughts drift all over the place. It is like trying to hold onto the mist, controlling them. From a distance it is thick and hefty, but try to grasp a handful and you come away with nothing. I shake out my dark robe and put it on, sliding on my shoes. It is too early for a large breakfast, and I do not like eating at my table by myself, anyhow. Since their children were born, the females and their drakoni partners do not have regular mealtimes. It is just as well. I hate being polite to them when my mate is not here.