Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“We will be ready,” he assures me.
Never once did he mention, or even glance at, the tied bandage around my head or the unfortunate state of my hand. Missing claws and all. I appreciate it, and hope for the same from the rest of the crew and the rest of my people. What should have been another successful mission for me to the Big Greens for Emululite was anything but in the end.
But what good will focusing on it do for me now?
Perhaps, I admit to myself as I climb the stairs for the wing of the ship used only by the High Royal Hallans, it isn’t really those who I have known for all my life that I worry. And maybe, that is just the wounded pride speaking inside of me.
Because the very second I enter the row of suites meant only for me to rest and lounge in between meals, or other duties, Selina is ready to show me why every worry I had on my way up here was for naught.
I barely cross the threshold where the panels open before my mate descends upon me with reaching hands intent on finding one thing.
“Oh, good, you had something new to wrap it in,” Selina says as I allow her to pull me to the seating area for her to inspect the bandage around my head. Once we’re seated, she gently lifts the bandage over the socket, and lets out a quiet sigh of acceptance. “I only have a single roll of gauze left and a small bottle of alcohol,” she explains.
I arch a black eyebrow. “Alcohol?”
I recognize that word. Or rather, the translator does. Except in my head, I see fermented fruits made for wines.
My mate smiles at the confusion I show her by grasping lightly to her arm.
“Sort of the same principle,” Selina says to me after we exchange the memory. “Just without the wine bit. I wouldn’t drink this alcohol, though. Oh, and you know how the peroxide kind of hurt?”
“I may remember some such thing,” I agree.
Selina makes a cute face that scrunches up her lips and nose. “This will be a lot worse.”
Oh, amazing. Can’t wait to not do that at all.
I don’t tell her that. I’ll figure out some distraction.
“It will dry out the wound a lot,” she says like she can read my thoughts.
Not to mention, it’s something the wound does need.
“We’ll get back to it. Good enough?” I ask her.
“What?” she replies absently, still inspecting my wound.
If any concerns linger in me that she won’t want to care and adore me the way I will for her is gone as the grisliness of my sacrifice becomes her focus for another few unbearable seconds.
“Selina,” I say.
“Yes, Bo?”
I smile, pleased that she picked that pet name of mine up. Likely from my sister.
“Are you finished?”
“I guess,” she mutters, placing the bandage back in place and stepping back, but I don’t let her go far.
“Good, then it’s my turn.”
In the next breath, I pull her back into my hold where I can enjoy the way she melts against me in her soft smock as I peel away the bandage on her forehead to find the raw, angry wound beneath. However, like mine, it’s as clean as it will be and for the moment, it’s also better to stay sealed, so I place the bandage back. Pressing my forehead to hers where the remnant of a sweet oil entangles with the natural scent of my mate, I then kiss the spot, and overtop her bandage.
“Vabila said something before, that I wanted to ask you about.”
I chuckle while dropping my hands to her waist. “I am sure Vabila said a lot of things that left you with questions.”
Her smile tells me she agrees.
“But go on,” I urge her.
“She said that you felt unworthy. Is that true?”
I have to fight not to look away at her words, but I also won’t lie to her.
“She was correct.”
“But … why?”
“I failed to protect you.” I bring my hand to her bandage. “On Hallalah, a mate is judged in large part on how he protects his mate from any harm, defends her if the need arises, keeps her safe from all harm, even if that means himself by choosing his words and actions carefully. I failed you in that aspect. Your father hurt you. His guards hurt you, and I could do nothing to stop them. It is a shame within me.”
“Shame?” she asks incredulously, her hands coming to my face. “How can you feel any shame after all you have sacrificed for me, Bothaki? You protected me with your body. Let them restrain you, torture you, take from you what they had no right to, all to keep me safe from them doing the same to me. I know my father’s cruelty. If it were not for you protecting me, he would have turned it on me in a second, but you kept me safe from him.”