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)
—Wild Woman Forum
“DON’T MIND STASYA,” Yakov murmured with his lips against her ear, the hard muscle of his body flexing against her. “She’s protective of her clanmates. Even the ones who can look after themselves.”
Theo’s toes curled. “I understand. I’m an unknown,” she said, and it wasn’t just words; while she’d never had a true family, she’d had Pax. She’d be exactly the same if he showed a sudden interest in another person. Especially if that person came from a family with a reputation like their own.
Yakov moved his thumb, brushing it back and forth below her breasts. “I dunno, Theo.” A nuzzle of his jaw against her hair. “You’ve petted my bear. We’re way past the stranger stage.”
She had no right to be here.
The words hit out of nowhere, slicing through her to reveal blood and bone, a brutal reminder from the part of her that would never allow her to forget or forgive what she’d done for her grandfather. That was as it should be. She shouldn’t forget what she’d done. She should remember and be haunted by her actions for the rest of her life.
And even that was nowhere near enough punishment.
Yet, hypocrite that she was, she didn’t move away from Yakov, and when he nudged her nutrient drink toward her, she uncapped the bottle and took a sip. She also sampled the food, her body an inferno that burned endless energy.
Rage and need and a hatred turned inward, it was a voracious mix.
“Theo?” Arwen’s calm voice when Yakov leaned over to talk to someone who’d come over to their table; the other Psy’s perfect face was gentle with concern. “You’re in trouble.”
Her fingers clenched on the nutrients.
Forcing herself to breathe in and out as she fell back on her childhood calming technique—except that it was now a bear she drew with the dots of light in her mind—she stayed silent for a full minute before responding. “And now?”
A frown, a sigh. “You’ve bottled it.” Then he shook his head and, for such an elegant and beautiful man, looked very stern and severe as he said, “You can’t keep on doing that forever. You know what happens when you just bottle things up? You explode without warning.”
Theo wanted to squirm as she hadn’t done since she’d been a small child in front of her tutor. Arwen was an E. No doubt about it. She might not be an expert on Designation E, but she’d spent a lot of time around Memory Aven-Rose. Despite that, tonight was the first time she understood what people meant when they said empaths could rule the world had they the inclination to do so.
Because while Memory’s attention had never been focused on her, Arwen’s at that instant was—and the full attention of an empath who so openly wanted only the best for her . . . and who was disappointed in her . . .
She wanted to apologize without knowing exactly why.
It was Hakon, the polar bear, who saved her. Slamming down his already empty beer bottle, he threw up his arms. “Are we dancing or having a fucking tea party?”
Stasya turned in a motion Theo could never make, it was so lethally graceful, and shoved at his chest with one hand, pushing him toward the dance floor. Though StoneWater’s second-in-command weighed less than Hakon and was shorter than him, it was clear that she was the one in charge.
Then she began to move in a sinuous flow of muscle, and Hakon’s mouth all but fell open before he grabbed her hips and began to move with her. Their motions were sensual, fluid, and primal in a way that felt far too intimate for a public venue.
Theo couldn’t look away.
“Our Arctic cousin better be careful”—a grinning Pavel shook his head—“or she’s going to break his wrists. An inch lower and snap, snap. Then what’ll we tell Auntie Anni?”
Heart thudding, Theo turned to Yakov. It felt wildly natural to speak with her lips brushing his ear when he bent his head toward her. “Does all dancing involve physical connection?” Theo wanted to do what they were doing—and she was certain she’d explode exactly as Arwen had warned her she would.
But Yakov shook his head, the silk of his hair brushing against her cheek. “You can have as much or as little contact as you want.” He nodded to the right. “Though—those two need to get a room.”
Following his gaze, Theo saw two women. One wore a glittering top and equally glittering micro-shorts, while the other wore a dress similar to Theo’s in shimmering silver. The couple was pressed against each other without a breath in between, a single organism in two parts.
As she watched, one of the women slid her fingers lightly along the back of her partner’s neck, angled her head . . . And the couple kissed, all tongue and open mouths, while the shorter of the pair slid her hand over the curves of her partner’s rear, squeezing her curves through the silver rain of her dress.