Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
I hummed and clicked back on my browser window. There was just so much information—rumors and theories, pictures and videos—to wade through. Fascinated, I kept getting sucked into the wild tales about them.
Someone claimed to have grown up on a ranch beside a family with triplets that she swore looked like younger versions of them. Someone else claimed that forty years ago, they’d seen a UFO crash nearby, and when they got to the site, there had been little kids climbing out of it. Stories like that were endless. People claimed to have seen something suspicious in a cornfield, out of their window while going through Death Valley, and while flying in an airplane.
Scrubbing my cheek, I picked up my can of Dr Pepper and took a sip before focusing on the search results on my screen. I’d left off on page four of… I didn’t even know how many.
The sound of creaking in the kitchen had me leaning over to the side to take a look.
Someone was awake.
The Defender was sitting there, hand in the air, head still propped against the pillow stuffed behind him. He spread his fingers wide before forming a fist. He was blinking slowly, the white-and-pink blanket that had been on him before pooled at his waist.
There’s no reason to be nervous. There’s no reason to be nervous.
But I was still fucking nervous.
I shut my computer and got up. “Are you okay?” I called out.
The superbeing didn’t look away. His attention was fixed on his fingers, turning them one way and then the other before sliding his gaze toward me, his expression groggy. And… grumpy?
I almost tripped.
Because I hadn’t imagined it the other night. His eyes weren’t just kind of purple; they were a pure, royal purple. Indigo maybe. In that moment, they weren’t violet like I’d thought. There was a dot of black for a pupil, but that was it. They weren’t glowing, but they were still incredible.
And the man with the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen, settled into the most handsome face I had also ever laid eyes on, looked in my direction, blearily.
Was he out of it? Stopping right in front of the chair, I picked up the glass of water I’d refilled for him earlier and crouched.
“Are you okay?” I asked again. “You good? You… got here a few days ago,” I reminded him, watching his face carefully, trying to see his eyes. Maybe he had a concussion?
Was that possible? He couldn’t have brain damage, could he? I’d been too worried about his back to think about his head.
I didn’t think I imagined the fact that, at the sound of my voice, he blinked once and something in those crazy-colored eyes seemed to focus, to snap into place, and suddenly, I knew he was finally seeing me.
And just as quickly as I processed that, the most ferocious fucking scowl formed over that gorgeous face while I crouched there. I almost wanted to look over my shoulder to make sure there wasn’t some kind of demon behind me, but there wasn’t.
What the hell was with that expression?
There wasn’t anything on my face; I’d just seen it during my video call. Did he really not remember what happened? Had he been in so much pain?
“You asked to stay here. You said not to call anyone.” My voice came out high and shaky because I was fucking nervous.
His eyelids dropped to a sliver, and the scowl on his mouth got even deeper. His nostrils flared. My skin… why was my skin buzzing? Why did he look about ready to fucking kill someone? Was he breathing harder too?
“I didn’t kidnap you or anything, swear.” I was starting to ramble. His lip curled back just enough for me to see his canine exposed. I’m Gracie, formed on the tip of my tongue, but I changed my mind and swallowed it down. The less information, the better. Right. That was another rule I’d followed my whole life.
He growled.
I suddenly wished I had a knife on me. Not that that would stop him, or much less slow him down, but it wouldn’t make me feel so helpless when he was sitting there staring at me like I’d smashed his headlights. I swallowed hard as that pink mouth went flat and my skin tingled even more.
He was definitely breathing harder.
And he was mad at whatever he had to be mad at. It couldn’t be me. I hadn’t done shit.
The Defender’s nostrils flared again, and that gaze flicked back to a spot behind my head before he closed his eyes, so, so tight that lines formed at the corners of them. He swallowed hard. That broad chest rose and fell once, and the muscles at his cheeks flexed like he was gritting his teeth.
“You good?” I asked slowly, concerned.
He couldn’t really think I’d kidnapped him, could he? I wasn’t that dumb. I didn’t think anybody would be dumb enough to try and kidnap someone who could bat a 50 caliber round away like it was a gnat.