Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“How did you know that about Peter?” Celia demanded. “Was that in your damned dreams too?”
Fierce smirked at her.
“Nope. He just doesn’t seem the type to enjoy eating pussy. He’s too fucking dainty.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “But seriously? He refuses to go down?”
“None of your business, you hijo de puta!” Celia’s cheeks were flaming as she glared up at him. Why was it that every time she felt like she was getting to like the Dark Twin, he said something to irritate, offend, or infuriate her?
“Celia is right—it’s none of our business what she does or doesn’t do with her fiancé,” Hold said, frowning.
“Okay, sorry.” Fierce shrugged. “Just trying to understand how he could resist such a sweet, soft little pussy. Especially with all the moaning and begging and hair pulling when you tongue her Goddess pearl just right…”
“Fierce, will you stop? Can’t you see our lady doesn’t want to talk about that?” Hold sounded almost as exasperated as Celia felt.
“All right, all right…” The Dark Kindred held up both hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture. “Just trying to understand it, that’s all.”
“Humans don’t have the same biological need to taste their females that we Kindred do,” Hold reminded him. “Besides which, we really enjoy it and I don’t know if they do or not.”
“Uh, that would be a ‘not’ as far as I can tell,” Celia said dryly. “But can we please stop talking about this now? Shouldn’t we be getting dressed? Aren’t we supposed to get our work assignments this morning?”
“Not until after breakfast,” the familiar voice of Ger’tha said and the front curtain was pulled to one side. “Hurry and get ready,” she told them. “Most of the other new recruits have already left for the dining area!”
It didn’t Celia take long to pull on her red silk tablecloth dress and even less time for the guys to put on their napkin-sized loincloths. Soon the three of them were sitting in the same spot they’d been in the night before in the large dining hall carved out of the trunk of the Mother Tree.
“No smart remarks this morning,” Celia said to Fierce as they all waited for their Mother pot to fill with whatever it was they would be eating that morning. Each of them had a bark cup of the thin, pancakes-and-syrup-tasting liquid from the large wooden caldron in the center of the room, though Celia found herself reluctant to drink hers. She still didn’t know what effect it might have on her.
La’ver’na was walking around the room, talking to the new recruits, many of whom were “worshipping their goddesses” before the meal officially began. When she got to their spot, she frowned down at the three of them.
“Nipples still aren’t blue, I see?” she asked, arching her eyebrows disapprovingly.
“Believe me, we tried everything,” Fierce said and would have gone into details, if Hold hadn’t given him a dig in the ribs with his elbow.
“Well, you clearly aren’t trying hard enough,” the unicorn priestess snapped, glaring down at them. “If you’re not producing the pleasure drops by tonight, we may have to do something drastic my dear,” she added, speaking to Celia.
Celia felt like someone had just dumped a whole bucketful of ice cubes into the pit of her stomach. Something drastic? Like what—feeding the three of them to the Mother Tree?
Somehow she managed to keep this question to herself but she saw Hold and Fierce both shooting her worried looks.
“We can talk about it later. For now, just hurry up and eat,” La’ver’na snapped and moved on to the next group.
“Eat what?” Fierce growled.
But when they looked at the small wooden Mother pot again, it was filling itself with a pale blue substance that had the texture of very thick oatmeal.
“Hmmm…tastes like scrupled eggs,” Fierce said, after taking a bite.
“What kind of eggs, did you say?” Hold asked, frowning.
“You know—when they take the chicken embryos and they mix them all up before frying them? Scrupled eggs,” the Dark Twin repeated.
Celia tried not to laugh.
“I think you mean scrambled eggs,” she corrected him and took a bite herself. “Oh, they do taste like scrambled eggs. With cheese in them,” she added.
Once she got past the strange texture, she found the flavor wasn’t too bad. Though it was difficult not to wonder how exactly the Mother Tree produced the nourishing substance. Celia really hoped it was some kind of byproduct of photosynthesis—not something derived from the slowly digesting bodies they’d seen on Branch Five.
Once that thought popped into her head, she found it impossible to eat another bite. She pushed her bowl away only half eaten and reluctantly sipped the pancake drink because she was thirsty.
“All right now, I know most of you know where you’re going but we have a few new recruits who need work assignments,” La’ver’na called, when most people had finished eating. “Listen up and be sure you stick with the other recruits from your assignment—they’ll show you where to go and what to do.”