Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Mhal turns to me, and the glasses perched on his regal nose just make him look more arrogant. I kind of love the way he looks, though. Haughty and yet with a wild edge. There is not another world to bring them into, he points out. I cannot go back to mine, it sounds like, not if the Rift is polluted with darker things. And this world has good things in it.
"Such as?"
He saunters toward me. Their mother. These glasses. Those tasty creatures with the excessively long horns.
I giggle at his absurd list. "So because you like the taste of longhorns, we should have kids?"
No, we should have children because we want them, not for any specific reason other than that. Mhal puts his hands on my shoulders and then presses a kiss to my forehead. But we are not deciding today, remember?
"Of course not."
Mhal goes completely still, his gaze distant. Do you still wish for me to avoid the babies?
Oh. "Are they talking to you?"
They talk to everyone in range. They do not know how to tone their thoughts down yet. Here, I will show you. He opens his mind a little more, and then I feel it.
It's like a megaphone blast into my head. HUNGRY, bellows a child. HUNGRY. AND WET. UNHAPPY.
I wince, surprised at how strong the voice is. It's less of a distinct thought and more of a sensation. The baby doesn't know the word for “hungry” so it's broadcasting the feelings, and it is very, very loud and cranky. And young. "Who is that?"
Her name is Luminoura. I do not know her sire and dam's names, but she shares their faces in her thoughts sometimes. A mental glimpse of a woman is offered, from the perspective of a baby breast-feeding and gazing up at its mother. The woman is smiling, her dark, curling hair and olive skin familiar to me. I've seen her around Fort Dallas, I realize, but I don't recall her name.
No, wait. I do. "Sasha," I say suddenly. "She was dating one of the guards. One that got killed by dragons." I haven't seen her in the fort for a while, and I guess I now know why. She hooked up with a dragon and had his baby.
It seems to be a thing lately—having babies with dragons.
Mhal turns to me, his thoughts bright with excitement. I can feel his enthusiasm – not to meet Sasha and her dragon, but to view the child. Do you want to go see them?
Go see them? Sasha and the baby? Right now?
How can I refuse?
31
MHAL
The moment I shift into battle-form, the thoughts and smells of this world crash in around me. Chaos blackens my mind, and I become lost in the madness. I growl, frustrated, because the unending flood of images and swirling, unfamiliar scents overwhelms everything.
Mhal, calls a patient, sweet voice.
I follow it, peering down at my feet. I ruffle my wings in frustration, ready to flame whatever is attacking my thoughts.
It's me, Mhal. Your Jenny. Your mate. Come breathe in my scent and you'll remember me. She makes a beckoning motion with her hand, indicating I should do as she asks.
For a moment, I am horrified. I am Queen's Guard. Why would I mate with a human? For that is what this female is—she gazes up at me with her face the odd color of the humans, her hair dark, her eyes that odd, unchanging color. I lean in, ready to snap her up in my jaws if she lies—
Familiarity washes over me the moment I breathe in her scent.
Jenny. My soft, pretty, fragile human. Mental images of my mate stir, of her laughter as she touches me, of the soft, vulnerable expression on her face when I claim her. I can smell my fires in her veins, smell the scent of my seed between her thighs. This is indeed my mate. How could I forget?
It's all right, she tells me in that soft, wonderful tone. Her hand caresses my nose. This world messes with your head. I don't mind reminding you.
I rub my head against her, pleased at her scent. It truly is appealing, musky and fresh and utterly enchanting to breathe in. I could press my snout to her belly and just drink in her scent all day long.
Do you remember what we talked about? she asks me, her hands skimming over my scales in a lovely way. We were going to go visit one of the babies. You said you wanted to. Her mind fills with our conversation we had just a short time ago, a conversation that I cannot find in my own memories no matter how hard I try. Everything is blurry. If I try to focus on anything other than her scent, chaos and madness fill my thoughts.
I focus on her, instead. She's what I like best anyhow.