Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
This time, I remember the feel of her body under mine. The taste of her sweet cunt under my tongue and how soft she is. The little cries she made as I touched her breasts. The clench of her body around my cock as I filled her with my seed and truly claimed her.
I claimed my mate fully, and I do not remember it. The agony of such a thing eats at me, and I close my eyes, frustrated at my mindlessness. How could I let myself sink back into the fog so easily? I told myself after Emma connected her mind with my own and freed me from the clouds of rage that I would never lose myself again. That I would work to regain what I had lost, and instead, I fell back into their grip once more. I hold Emma tightly against me, breathing in her scent in the still air.
I struggle to remember more of our time together, but all I have are vague impressions, and it angers me. I let the madness control me and it has taken something valuable from me. Something priceless. There will be another time, I vow. One in which I will scrutinize every detail and commit them to memory. I will fill my thoughts with her and how good she feels. I will take my time pleasuring her so I can memorize her sounds, her scent, her taste.
I stroke her arm and she sighs, snuggling closer against me. It does not matter that I lie on my back and with every moment, the pressure on my wounds shoots pain through my body. She is comfortable, and that is enough for me. I gaze down at my mate, my heart full at the thought of finally having her in my arms.
She—
My joy crashes in on itself as her arm moves and I catch sight of dark, purplish bruises on the warm tones of her skin.
She is…hurt?
Anger fills my mind. Furious, I think back to the humans who tried to harm her, but even in my fractured memories, I do not remember them getting close enough to touch her. I broke free before they did, because the thought of them putting a hand on her made me crazed.
How did they harm her?
I sniff the air. Her scent is clear and sweet and unsullied. She smells of sweat and my seed. I do not scent another on her, and the only smells in our dwelling are hers and mine.
I am the one that hurt her.
A new, fresh agony rips through me. I have harmed my mate? How lost was I? How can she ever forgive me?
It is unthinkable.
Unbearable.
No drakoni warrior would ever harm a female, even in mating battle. That is one of the challenges of subduing a female and defeating her—to do so without harm, without those tools that make it easy to defeat a true enemy. A female is to be cherished and loved. Even a challenge comes from a place of affection rather than true anger or the need to harm. I have wanted her since the moment I saw her, but I have never thought to attack and subdue my Emma. I have always known that she is fierce in her own way, and strong, but she is not drakoni. She cannot be courted in the same way a drakoni female is courted, with claw and gnashing teeth and battle games that lead to a fierce mating. She is small and must be protected. Her skin tears easily and she must be handled carefully. I knew this, even chained down.
But…she smells of my seed and her arms are covered in bruises. I cannot deny these things. Did I truly lose myself so completely that I would hurt the one I cherish the most? The thought makes me ill.
My distressed thoughts must be spilling over to her. Emma makes a soft noise and lifts her head, blinking wearily at me. “Zohr?”
Just the sound of my name on her lips brings me pleasure. I am not worthy of her. Shame rushes through me. My mate. I am truly, deeply apologetic. I do not deserve you.
She rubs her face and sits up. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes widen. “Oh, you shouldn’t be lying on your back. You’ll harm your stitches.”
Stitches? I do not understand what she means.
She sits up and pats the blankets. “I stitched your wounds so they’ll heal properly. Roll over onto your stomach and let me look at them.”
I do as she commands, because I am fascinated by her firm, decisive manner. Even now she does not act afraid of me. I harmed her. I remember her fear. Why is she so calm now? Is my Emma used to males harming her? I think of the others in her strange family group and I want to rip out their throats all over again. How can humans be so cruel to their females?