Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
A rumble from his chest cut her off. She realized at the same time that the bear couple on their date had gone motionless on the other side of the restaurant, while every single human had fallen silent. That was when she truly understood the level of dominance possessed by the otherwise laid-back man sitting across from her.
His displeasure had affected people nowhere near them.
As if realizing that, he turned and smiled at the others. “Sorry,” he said with an abashed grin, using those dimples of his like weapons, “we’re arguing over dessert.”
Everyone exhaled, laughed, and went back to their own discussions.
When Yakov turned his attention back to her, his eyes remained uncompromising in their intensity. “So.”
She drank half a glass of the water the waitress had dropped off before Yakov put her on the spot. Then she narrowed her eyes at him, because there was one thing she wanted to set straight here and now. “I am not a submissive. You can’t intimidate me.”
The slightest tug of his lips. “I know. If you were a submissive, I’d have handed you over to a gentler clanmate hours ago. You have a spine made of iron, Theo.” That slow smile deepened. “I like iron.”
Her breath hitched, her pulse erratic. She wasn’t so certain anymore that this was only about work. Not that it mattered. Her answer wouldn’t change—because this was no longer just about her own questions. It was about that man with the empty eyes who’d cried that single heartbreaking tear, about the woman who’d banged her head on the wall in the facility, and all the others she’d seen that day.
Where were the patients? What had her grandfather done?
“It stays between us,” she said, then shook her head when he would’ve interrupted her. “It’s personal. Nothing your clan needs to know—but I’ll allow you to make that call after I tell you.”
The amber grew brighter, a prowling wildness to it. “That’s a whole lot of trust, pchelka.”
Theo had the sudden, primal urge to crawl over the table and into his lap, grip his hair so that she could look endlessly into his eyes, the need born from the same core as her rage. She wanted to force him to know her, see her: Theo Marshall, Tk 2.7, no one important . . . and the masterwork of a cold-blooded psychopath.
Masochistic. But she couldn’t stand not knowing how he’d look at her once he knew all of her. Better to rip off the Band-Aid fast and hard. A little blood, a sharp stab of pain, and it would be over.
This . . . taut hope? It hurt worse.
“I did my research,” she got out past the storm inside her. “StoneWater bears have a reputation.” She paused. “In more ways than one—but everyone agrees your word is your bond.”
Throwing back his head, Yakov laughed, the sound a warm wave that had the others in the restaurant looking over with big smiles on their faces. The waitress bore the same smile when she dropped off their food. And Theo realized that this man wasn’t just liked by his friends and clanmates. He was loved.
“Agreed, then,” he drawled, while she was still recovering from the impact of his laugh, so open and generous. “I won’t say a word to anyone as long as it’s truly personal.”
“We’ll talk in the car,” she said. “I can’t risk anyone else overhearing.” True enough—but also true was that she needed to build up her willpower and courage to walk back into the suffocating evil that made her hate herself.
Yakov held her gaze, as if judging the sincerity of her words, before inclining his head in a small nod. “Be careful of the serving skillet—it’s hot.”
The next few minutes were taken up with him explaining how she could put together her fajita, then offering her a portion of his soft taco to try. She felt overwhelmed, as if she was living another woman’s life. A normal woman’s. One who had nothing to hide and could enjoy the company of a beautiful, bearish man who seemed determined to feed her even if he didn’t trust her.
Yakov had already ordered a couple more dishes.
“Sides,” he’d explained. “I eat like a bear and this way you can try more dishes.”
Now he said, “Thela, try this sweet pepper.” He began to lift it to her lips, a slight flush kissing his cheekbones before he changed course to put it on her plate. “You won’t believe how good it tastes.”
The entire experience threw her.
Food was never this generous sharing among the Psy.
We used to. Pax and I.
A cascade of memories from their childhood, of her passing him his favorite nutrient bar rather than eating it herself, even though it was part of her allotment for the day, and him making sure the bags of dried fruit they got as treats ended up in her pockets.