Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I found salvation in long, hard hours—even though my condition tormented me—and collapsed into a deep, healing sleep the moment the day was done.
I’d often wake in the middle of the night to find the pack of local village dogs—all ownerless but fed by the community—curled around me on the floor where I slept.
So when something cool and wet nudged my hand, my dreams shot me straight back to that time when I was nobody. It filled me with profound peace, and I reached for those memories, longing to return to such simplicity.
My arms snaked around the dog that’d come to snuffle me awake, just like I’d grown used to. The dog seemed bigger than the scruffy mutts I’d cuddled before, but it was still warm and soft and wonderful.
Nuzzling closer, I sighed and sank deeper into dreams.
* * * * *
I woke to the raspiest tongue licking my cheek.
I giggled and tucked my chin, pushing the mutt out of the way. “Khoai, quit it.” My favourite of the dogs had been called Potato in Vietnamese, mainly because he was as round as one.
The cold kiss of a canine nose, followed by the huff of breath. My heart swelled enough to crack. After my parents’ death, I hadn’t been touched by another person. I didn’t allow anyone to get close enough because I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Yet I also ached for touch. I yearned for a hug that would protect me from everything. I wanted to be taken care of, even while pretending I needed no one.
The only times I let down my walls were around animals—hurling myself into their unconditional embraces and soaking up everything I was missing.
That raspy, dry lick came again, right on my temple.
“Eww, Khoai, what happened to your tongue?” Rolling onto my back, I opened my eyes and—
“Ahhhhhhh!”
Scrambling upright and shooting off the bed, I tripped in the blankets tangled around my legs and fell straight back down again.
The panther arched an eyebrow where it lay—where I’d been lying. It huffed as if judging me and then stood and stretched. Its claws punctured my pillow, its spine flattening and arching as gracefully as a ballerina.
My heart stopped as it yawned, revealing a mouthful of sharp fangs and extremely pointy teeth.
I tried to get up off the floor. To stop my racing adrenaline. But then the panther leapt off my bed and prowled toward me. Towering over me, it burned me alive with its golden, glowing stare before humming quietly and headbutting me right in the forehead.
“Oww...” I winced, rocking backward and rubbing yet another bruise. “You really don’t know your own strength, do you?”
It sat down, its leggy limbs perfect for loping through a jungle, its paws absolutely gigantic.
I didn’t move.
I could barely breathe—facing off with a predator as it cocked its head.
It looked confused.
“Yeah, you and me both, humongous kitty.”
Its jaws parted, almost in a grin.
“Was...was that you?” I asked quietly, eyeing up the bed and trying to untangle reality from fantasy. “I.... Was I hugging you in my sleep?”
It yawned again and flopped down next to me, flipping onto its back and showing me its sable belly.
The urge to smoosh my face into it came so strong I almost buckled, but I wasn’t suicidal and managed to stay stiff and alive in my blankets. “Where...” Glancing over my shoulder at the empty pavilion, I licked my lips. “Where’s your master?”
Writhing around on the floor as if trying to ease an itch, the panther didn’t reply.
Because it was a panther and couldn’t talk.
Leaving it to do whatever it was doing, I struggled to get free from my blankets and stood. My racing heart skipped a few beats and the faint headache that I doubted would go away until I escaped this place ached in my eyes, but...I hadn’t been eaten in my sleep so that had to account for something, right?
“Does Lucien know you’re here?” I ran my hands through my hair before collecting the blanket and tossing it back on the bed. “Shouldn’t you go?”
The panther shot to its feet and padded toward me.
I backed up. “Eh, what are you doing?”
It kept coming, pushing me toward the kitchen where I’d systematically worked my way through the fridge and cupboards.
“There’s not much food left, I’m afraid.” I dashed behind the counter. “Otherwise, I’d give you breakfast. Just to ensure you’re not tempted to eat me.”
It huffed and prowled to my side, its silky bulk nudging my hip as it went straight to the tall pantry.
“Honestly, there’s nothing in there.” Following the panther, I pulled open the door and—
“Huh. I guess they restocked.” Chills scattered down my back. When did they do that? When I went for a walk last night and got accosted by Lucien or while I was sleeping?
Shuddering, I pulled out a pack of cured honey meats. “Is this what you want?”