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)
"No," she answers back immediately, and there is no hesitation in her thoughts. "But maybe…don't eat people anymore? You like longhorns. Stick to them."
As I said before, it was war then. I press another kiss to her neck and she finally leans into me, softening. I am no longer at war. I have joined forces with the other side. I have defected. I lift her hair and expose more of her neck so I can continue to kiss her. And the only human I want on my tongue is you.
Her thoughts groan. She tells herself she knew that comment was coming, that I can only talk about tasting for so long before my attention turns toward mating.
I like mating, I point out. My female is warm and eager in my arms. Why would I not think of such pleasant things? I cup her breast. Why would I not think about covering my female with my scent before we return to the stench of the human hive? I see no problem with this.
She sighs, leaning back against me as I tease her nipple, and her thoughts swirl from lazy pleasure to vague thoughts about tomorrow and what our return will bring. "What if Azar doesn't give in to our demands?" she asks, fretting.
Then we leave. We seek out a friendlier fort. There will be others with drakoni and human matings, I think. There will be others eager to stop what is coming through. We will approach others instead. Remember, we approach him because he has something we want, and we have something he wants. We are not giving in. Our paths are meeting at the same place momentarily.
"As long as we're on the same page," Jenny says softly, her voice catching in a gasp when I roll her nipple. Hot pleasure floods through her thoughts.
I tease my mate's earlobe with my tongue, my mind full of the need to claim my mate. We are always on the same page, I tell Jenny. You and I are as one. Always.
The next morning, I kiss my mate goodbye—it always feels a bit like goodbye—and shift to battle-form. I expect to be utterly lost the moment I shift, and for a moment, I am. The sounds and smells of this world overwhelm my senses, and it is too much. It threatens to pull me under, to swamp my mind and drag me down.
Then, just as quickly…it clears.
"Mhal?" my mate calls out, reaching out to me. The wind makes her hair and her dress flutter around her slim body, and her face is resigned. "Remember me?"
I lean in and rub my nose against her. Even before her scent reminds me, I know who she is. Jenny. My mate. The one who carries my child. I can smell a hint of it on the air, the subtle change of her scent as it grows richer, deeper with my fires. And I am not as lost as I usually am.
I remember you, my Jenny. We are flying to the human hive to demand things of the Salorian, yes?
"You remember?" She's astonished. Her hands brush over my muzzle as she gazes up at me. "You normally don't recall who I am…"
I am clear-headed, I tell her, and breathe in her scent, because it always grounds me. I am good this day.
"Huh. I wonder why."
The slight change in her scent tickles my nose. I suspect I know.
36
JENNY
The sight of the dead-eyed dragons lounging atop Fort Dallas's barricade fills me with cold, helpless anger. This isn't right. I know Rachel says that he won't release them because he uses them to keep the fort safe, but it hurts me to see them like this and know that my Mhal, my arrogant, infuriating, wonderful mate, was in the same situation.
I can hear your thoughts. His amusement floats through my head.
You are arrogant, I point out. You're allowed. My hand, chilled with cold, rests against his chest scales. Mhal flies with me tucked close to his chest, and his back is laden with all the stuff I've packed up to bring with us. It makes me think about Rachel's saddle and the feasibility of it. How do you get in and out of the thing when you're pregnant? But she seemed to handle it all right. As we fly overhead, one of the drakoni looks up, his eyes that terrifying, blank gray, and I'm reminded of the wrongness of the situation. It can't be allowed to go on. Protecting one person by destroying another isn't a solution.
And the drakoni are people.
So yeah, this stops today.
We circle around the fort a few times, giving the other drakoni in the fort—and Azar—time to register our presence.
Jurik reaches out to me with greeting. Vaan, too. This is…acceptable? His thoughts are full of turmoil. He wants to speak with the other drakoni. After meeting with Dakh and Sasha and their baby, Mhal has been coming out of his mental “shell” a bit more. He wants to ask them about their mates' pregnancies, if they have dreams like I do, if they talk to their young—but a shadow of the past hangs over his head. A Queen's guard has no friends, he reminds me. I should not speak to them.