Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Jareth shows no signs of calming, so I bring my palm to his face and nuzzle my nose against his.
“Please. Let it all fall where it may,” I urge.
He lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “Grace will give birth one solar and…”
“And what?” I ask, pulling away to look at him.
His features fall, heartbreak flashing in his eyes. “And you’ll rush to father the mortyoung.”
“There’s no changing the fact I am the father,” I remind him.
“Breccan will encourage you to officially mate with her.” His nostrils flare, fury once again flashing in his black eyes.
“Breccan has his hands full with Sokko at the moment. And no one can force me to mate with Grace. Not to mention, you saw how she was.” I flinch when at the memory of what she’d called me.
A rapist.
A Kevin.
“She’s volatile,” he agrees. “I certainly don’t see her jumping at the chance to mate with you.” His tense body relaxes marginally so.
“Just because I don’t want to mate with her doesn’t mean we shouldn’t befriend her. You saw her, Jare. She was terrified. Beneath the fury was terror. And she’s carrying my mortyoung. I may not want her, but I do want what a part of me created. The part she carries within her.”
“Sokko is pretty rekking cute,” he admits with a chuckle. “Yours would be cuter.”
I flash him a wide grin. “That’s a given.”
“What if it’s a female?” Jareth asks, his eyes widening. “I don’t even hardly remember what our females looked like.”
“Still half human, though. Maybe my mortling would look more like Grace,” I ponder aloud.
“Grace is feral. If your mortling is like her, it’ll be like having a baby sabrevipe. We could send it after Hadrian when he annoys us,” Jareth jokes.
I pull him to me and embrace him. “We will figure this out,” I vow. “Together. Let me make peace with Grace. Promise me you’ll try to behave.”
His palm slides to my rump over my minnasuit and he bites his claws into me just hard enough to threaten to puncture the material. “I would never promise such things. Behaving isn’t a word that rattles around in my nog.”
Grinding my hips against him, I revel in his harsh intake of breath. “Learn the word and use it. Then I’ll reward you for it later.” I brush my lips against his and then I leave him with his cock straining against his suit.
My heart is racing, the urge to go back to him and strip him bare overwhelming. Barely, I refrain. Tilting my head up, I call out for Uvie.
“Where is Grace, Uvie?”
“Good solar to you, Sayer. Grace is in the sub-faction with Emery.”
“Are they decent? Can I go see them?”
“They just finished a meal and are whispering.”
“About me?”
“Your name comes up often, sir.”
Anxiety floods through me, but I swallow it down. It’s in my nature to make peace. Jareth is filled with warring emotions and I’ve always been the one to calm that war. Dealing with Grace shouldn’t be much different than dealing with my mate.
I walk into the sub-faction to find Emery and Grace sitting beside each other on a sofa. When they see me, Emery smiles and Grace hisses.
Most definitely like Jareth when he’s in one of his moods.
“Emery. Grace.” I give my nog a slight bow as I greet them both. Imploring with just my eyes, I beg for Emery to leave me with Grace. Thankfully she understands and rises.
“Grace, if you’ll be okay here with Sayer, I need to excuse myself for a bit. I’m feeling tired and would like a little nap.” She pats her stomach. “This little one is draining me. I’m due to go into labor any day now.”
“Maybe I should nap too,” Grace bites out, glaring my way.
Emery shoots me an apologetic look and I simply nod at her to let her know it’s okay. As soon as she’s gone, I sit down in Emery’s vacated seat, angling my body toward Grace.
“We haven’t had a chance to speak properly,” I start out softly.
She tenses, shooting me a venomous look. “Now’s your chance.”
“I understand how terrified you must be—”
“Terrified? No. Infuriated? You bet your ass, freak.”
I wince at her words, and her eyes flash guiltily for one moment before she hardens them again.
“You’re angry. Rekk, I would be too. How we got here—with you humans—it’s less than ideal,” I agree, frowning. “But we’re here. And instead of letting the anger consume us, we must adapt. That’s what our kind has been doing for ages. Adapting. To the climate changes. To the mutations. And now, to social changes. While we’re advanced in technology and medicine, we’re lacking in many other areas due to our circumstances. Ten males. That’s all we had for a long time, Grace. Give us a chance to learn and get better. All of us want to be better. I can speak for every mort here.”