Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
And I heard nothing of his intrusion.
That was a terrifying thought.
This was his house. He knew where everything was, how to move from space to space. The ultimate advantage to my nervous ignorance.
And he was playing with me. Leaving me things to explore, setting out lavender clothing he’d selected.
Dressing me up.
As a mate.
These were gifts for a mate. And I had to either wear what that offering or be naked.
Smooth to the touch, I lifted the fabric to find it was a sheer dress, unlike the ones in the magazines. It was long, flowy. When I held it up before me, the garment cut close to the body but wasn’t tight or revealing.
I stepped into it, pulling it over my hips until I might drop the towel and quickly cover the rest of myself. There were no sleeves, just a pair of straps to hold the dress on my shoulders, leaving slick material to fall around me.
One glance in the mirror and I ground my teeth.
I had been totally wrong; the dress was indecent.
So pliant was that lavender fabric that the exact shape of my nipples was on display. As I moved, it fanned about my figure, drawing attention to the swell of my hip and the dip of my waist. There was even a slit to midthigh.
The black dress I had spent years creating highlighted a feature here or there. This silky abomination flaunted everything.
I was more naked in that draping slip of cloth than I was without clothing at all.
But at least I could run in it, where if I wrapped myself in the damp fluffy towel, I’d need to hold it to my body.
My greatest natural defense was my talons; my hands needed to be free. Otherwise, I would have no means of defending myself.
The new dress was not the only addition he’d brought into the space. A brush waited on the counter, a teeth-cleaning machine beside it. While running a cycle to scrub the fuzzy feeling out of my mouth, I worked the brush through my wet hair, trying not to be impressed with how easy it was to comb, thanks to the fruity-smelling stuff from the shower.
Yet my hair was still dripping, each water droplet causing the already shocking dress to stick to my skin. This only led to frustration. Air drying would take time, and I knew he would not stay out of the bathroom forever. It would be better to face an opponent on my terms. Besides, the exit was in the other room.
Long hair dripping down my back, I cracked my neck and flexed each finger.
When I got to the closed door, I was ashamed of my hesitation to turn the knob.
What point was there in hiding? None at all. Better to face the beast and learn what I lacked, educate myself so I might choose my next move.
This was about survival.
Flight and fight had failed me in the office. To handle him, I needed a real strategy. We would have to speak; I might even be able to negotiate something favorable until I might find my way to the fog.
I was his mate, right? A certain amount of respect was supposed to come with the position.
Several slow, measured breaths, then I mentally counted down from five, pushing my way out before fear might swallow me whole.
But, one look at me in that dress, and his chest began knocking. Having been held down and fucked, I knew exactly what that rhythm demanded.
Without thought, I ran.
16
In a blink, the general unfolded himself from the cushioned chair, launching his larger body right for me. “Wait!”
Cyderial moved at a greater speed than any instructor or student I had ever trained with. Catching me instantaneously around the middle by a pair of strong arms, he proved his physical prowess was so far beyond my skill.
Stronger. Larger. Hard where I was soft.
Still, I fought with all I had.
A lifetime of training in hand-to-hand combat earned me a few solid strikes, but not enough. Kicking air, all claws and snarls, I found myself completely outmatched. In mere moments, he had my hands pinned at my back, bracing my struggles against a broad chest.
Not a single technique I had been taught made any difference.
Cyderial was my superior—not just in age and rank.
“Lorieyn, I’m not going to hurt you.”
But he would do other things!
Throwing back my head, I screamed at the top of my lungs. Even as the cries rattled windowpanes, I knew deep down no one would come to my aid.
Who would oppose the command of a general regarding the female he’d stolen as his mate?
His elusive rank was practically on par with God to hybrid kind. Humans revered all he had done to protect the settlement.
He was a decorated hero. I was just a recruit with a mediocre performance record no one would miss.