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)
It is my venom, he tells me again. There’s no apology in his tone, just pride and pleasure as if he’s happy about the situation. You will only hurt for a short time. If I could take it away from you, I would.
I think about his situation. The chains. The vest full of spikes. The uncomfortable-looking collar. And you? Are you okay? Here I am lying in a bed at least. I’m not chained down and being held captive. Well, at least, I don’t think I’m a captive. I can’t leave, though. Azar and his goons wouldn’t let me walk away. In a sense, I’m trapped, just as Zohr is.
I hate it, and I hate this place, but I will not abandon you. Can you not come to me?
I can’t. They’ll kill me if they find out we’re talking. I bite my lip, thinking about the dragon-man. I wish I could come and check on you, but if I leave my room after Old Jerry told everyone I’m sick, they’re going to ask questions and I don’t have answers for them.
Stay where you are until you are safe. Do you want me to come for you? I get a flash of mental images, of Zohr breaking free.
No! Don’t hurt yourself. We’ll figure this out. We just need to be patient.
Patience. He mulls the thought. Restraint is something I have not been familiar with for a long time. There’s a hint of irony in his mind. I have been instinct and instinct alone for far too long. Now that I am awakened, everything feels different.
Well, don’t act different, I caution him. No one can know we’re linked.
Everyone will know soon enough, he tells me, and that arrogant flavor is back in his thoughts. The Salorian will smell me on you.
I gasp aloud even though I know Zohr can’t hear it. What the fuck? What do you mean?
You have taken my fires. Your scent will change to mingle with mine.
Well that’s not good! I hope the perfume covers it. I make a mental note to spritz it even more heavily than usual.
You hide your scent? He sounds fascinated. Come here and let me sniff you to determine if this is true.
Nice try. I’m not getting out of bed.
His tone is contrite. Because you hurt. I do not like that you are aching. Close your eyes. Sleep. I can wait a bit longer to look upon my mate once more.
I do as he says and shut my eyes. Immediately some of the tension eases, and I can relax a bit.
The venom will flow out of your system in another day or so, he promises. You will feel better soon.
I kinda like his soothing tone and catch myself smiling. You say that to all the ladies?
I have never claimed a female before. I have never wanted to until now.
Well, don’t get too attached. I’m not much of a prize.
You are everything.
I can’t help but be flattered at his tone. Is this how it is between Sasha and Dakh? No wonder she was so besotted with him. Big dick and utter devotion?
If the situation wasn’t so shitty and forced, I’d probably be besotted, too. As it is, I’m just worried. Worried we’re going to be found out. Worried Zohr’s going to hurt himself. Worried a million other things are going to go wrong.
I think about Boyd.
And Azar.
And I think about Zohr.
Everything’s such a mess. I’m “mated” to a stranger. My scent’s going to change and Azar’s going to find out. I’m still surrounded—heck, working with—the enemy. I’ve got no clue how to get Zohr free. I’ll think of something, though. I have to.
Giving up has never been an option in my book.
8
ZOHR
I listen to my mate’s fascinating tumble of thoughts, and I realize she does not know that I can hear everything. She worries about me. She worries about the one called Azar, and I pull his image from her scattered thoughts and lock it into my own. If I see him, I will destroy him, I vow to myself.
I test my wrists against the chains holding me down. When I was lost in my own head—crazed—I did not understand the chains, only that they prevented me from flying away and they made me angry. Now I see what they are for. This Azar knew just how to chain me down. He knew that a drakoni’s wings are vulnerable and delicate at the base, which is where the spikes prod into my back. He knows that the collar locked around my neck will tear my throat out if I try to change. He keeps me prisoner in my two-legged form.
But for what purpose?
I sift through my mate’s thoughts, trying to learn from her. She thinks of another male. Boyd. Her sibling, now dead. She is sad that he is gone, but only because of what he represents. There is much resentment when she thinks of him.