Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
At least rectangular windows punched out in the walls allow light in. But, naturally, there are no glass panes in them, and freezing air with wafts of snow burst in at intervals.
I grasp at the metal around my neck as I try to make casual conversation. I can’t believe something so medieval still exists—much less that I’m chained up by it and being dragged around by this… whatever he is.
“Never child,” he growls back over his shoulder. I can just see the corner of his jaw in the space between his shuddered wings. “Always this.”
I blink. Okaaaaaaay. “Well, what was it like when you first… uh… started existing?”
The silence extends so long I think he’s not going to answer me.
At least we’re finally done descending the endless staircase. He pulls me into a large anteroom that has a long, long table running down its center with a plate and drink in front of the large chair at its head. The room is totally empty except for a fireplace in the center of one wall. Otherwise, it’s just cold, stone walls.
No fire is burning, and flurries of snow gust in through several more open windows, while ice gathers in the corners and along the heavy beams that stretch across the ceiling. My teeth jitter in my freezing nakedness, and I cross one arm uselessly across my chest.
“Cozy,” I whisper.
The beast whips its head around toward me. “First existence-time was bad. Creator-Father was cruel. Creator-Father liked to beat me because I did not turn out as desired. I displeased him.”
I blink again, not sure where to focus—on his unnerving cat’s eyes or his even more unnerving lion’s mouth.
Or most disconcerting of all—how even though he is most obviously monstrous, there is still something unalienably human about him.
“Only good time,” he continues, much to my surprise considering he hasn’t been all that talkative in my limited experience, “was when Creator-Father had a consort. She was obedient and took care of me. She fed me and fucked my Creator-Father well.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Now you are consort.”
I nod. “Yeah, I got that part.”
“You fuck me well now.”
It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. Especially at the way his terrifying mouth turns up at the edges in what I think is his… smile? And staring at him now in all his towering monstrousness as the morning light pours through four large eastern windows…
Dear God, what happened last night has to have been a dream. Some hallucinogen-induced nightmare. In fact, I’m pretty sure all of this— Maybe that cave was full of some kind of mushrooms, and that’s why hikers don’t come back. We all get exposed to a toxic fungal gas, that makes us hallucinate and have wondrous, ludicrous visions of—
Tree-trunk cocks?
I slap a hand over my mouth to stop a hysterical giggle. What else am I supposed to do? Because this is all suddenly feeling like a terrible nightmare.
But then I’m yanked forward again by the metal collar around my neck, which makes all laughter stop abruptly in my chest.
Oh God. Nope, this is all far too real again. And whatever I might have thought this could be last night, in a crazy moment of lusty, romantic fancy—it’s clearly not. He’s dragging me around by a collar and chains, freezing and naked.
“Look, about this whole consort business,” I try anyway, as he jerks me forward until I’m only a couple of feet away from him. I’m nimble on my feet now and able to hurry. I try to keep ahead so he stops with the yanking me around business. Moving quicker helps against the lung-clenching cold, too. My feet are already blocks of ice.
“I think it’s about time we establish some boundaries,” I say frantically. “And get me some clothes? Maybe we could go back for the comforter if there’s nothing else?”
He pauses and stares at me, the chain loose in his hands. “What is boundaries?”
I blink but before I can speak, he’s dragging the heavy chain so that it rattles and sparks along the stone floor as he starts forward again. I scurry to keep up before the metal collar can tug at my neck again.
“Well,” I hurry to explain, “boundaries are helpful between two people—say two strangers—like us, for example. It’s about personal space. And sometimes I’ll need some alone time.”
His wings shake, and a few huge black feathers flutter to the floor. I noticed them all over the bedroom earlier. Normal men shed hair; he sheds feathers.
And then he whips around to face me, and his wings flare to their full extension, enormous in the big room, stretching probably thirty feet in diameter. And he grabs the chain right close to where it links to the metal collar around my throat, jerking me roughly to him.
I squeak as he draws my face forward so that it’s just inches from his.