Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
At twenty-one, I've never even been kissed. Tragic, I know. But when you grow up the way I did, there are more important things than dating, boys, and losing the V-Card. You know, things like stability, shelter, and survival.
"Elskan-ljós."
Strands of hair shift away from my face as a large, rough hand drifts gently down my cheek.
My eyes pop open on a gasp, my heart slamming against my ribcage as reality rips the last, lingering vestiges of sleep away. I sit upright in the bed, expecting to find myself alone and dreaming in my tiny little room in my tiny apartment in Seattle.
I'm not. There's nothing familiar in the room around me. I've never seen the hand-hewn cedar dresser, nor the thick fur pelts stretched across the gleaming wooden floor. The giant bed beneath me isn't mine. And the massive, fiercely beautiful man standing over me, his hand still raised as if to touch me again, definitely didn't pop out of my miniscule closet.
I scurry away from him across the bed, putting as much distance between us as I can. "Don't touch me," I gasp, brandishing a pillow like a weapon.
Great. I'm sure he's very intimidated by my choice of weaponry. If I ask nicely, maybe he'll even lay still so I can smother him to death with it.
"Easy, Valkyrie. I won't harm you." His voice is a wet dream, deep and deliciously dark. A thread of command compels me to listen and trust him. To believe he means what he says.
But I trust no one. Not anymore. That ship sank in the Mariana Trench a decade ago, right about the time I learned that the worst pain comes most often from those closest to you.
"Don't come any closer."
His brows furrow over arresting green eyes, his expression turning uncertain. "You don't remember me."
Remember him? I've never even seen him before no—
A flicker of memory floats up from the dark recesses of my mind, halting the denial in its tracks. The memory is incomplete, entire sections of it missing. But enough floats free for me to be certain of two things.
One, I have seen this man before. And two, he's already lied to me.
"You kidnapped me from the bar."
"Kidnapped?" His lips purse as if the word tastes sour upon them. "Is that what you believe, Valkyrie?"
Do I?
I press my fingers to my forehead, trying to think. Why can't I think? Why can't I remember?
"We met at the bar." I look to him for confirmation, though I don't really need it. I know I was at the bar. That, I remember clearly. Genevieve and Jessa dragged me out to celebrate my birthday. Only, like usual, my coworkers ran off to dance with two guys from the office across from ours, and I was left to my own devices.
A stranger kept me company at the bar while I finished my drink. When he found out it was my birthday, he insisted on buying me another drink. Was it this man? I scrutinize him, trying to remember. He doesn't strike me as the kind of person you forget. There's something about him that fascinates me.
It's not his overly long black hair or green eyes. It's not his striking, ruggedly beautiful features. It's not even the fact that, thanks to a trick of the light, he seems to glow faintly. It's a sense of rightness and belonging, as if he's nestled into some deep-down place inside of me and taken up residence.
I don't know how else to explain it. But yesterday, I knew with absolute certainty that I was alone in this world. I was the keeper of my owl soul, the forger of my own destiny. But with this man close, I'm faced with the unshakable realization that I was dead wrong yesterday.
It's almost as if I feel him burrowing deep into some corner of my soul that he's carved out just for himself. The thought is pure madness, yet with his eyes on me, I feel it anyway. It's disconcerting as hell.
There's no such thing as soulmates. There's no such thing as destiny. And even if there were, mine certainly isn't at the hands of a handsome man who kidnapped me from a bar.
But I add another certainty to my list. This isn't the man who bought me a drink last night. I remember nothing about that man. It's as if a shadow sat beside me, one indistinguishable from every other shadow. He has no shape, no face, no features. Nothing.
I give up trying to remember him and move on.
"I fainted?"
"Nei, Valkyrie. You did not." My handsome captor's lips twist, his stance rigid. He's intimidating, standing with his feet planted and his arms crossed over his massive chest. His simple blue t-shirt stretches across the broad wall of his chest, clinging to every muscle beneath. "You were drugged."