Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Wood. More precious than gold.
Where the universe was littered with gold, wood only existed on a single planet, having developed through eons of evolution of plant life.
Wood that was even more precious under the Dome, as nature had been abandoned so humanity could survive the Red Consumption. Fruit trees in her city existed to produce. The delicate ecosystem that kept them all alive was not reliant on nature, but on filters, manmade machines, and careful control.
Wood could not be recycled in the way gold could be melted down and made into a fork that pretentious Commodores used to stab fine fish. Once crafted and polished and perfected, wood was in its final form.
Brenya’s nest was entombed in blood-soaked wood, and it felt like home in a way the lavish, sparkling quarters Jacques Bernard had kept her in never had.
It was safe from Jacques, even as he crept nearer and nearer.
And Jules….
A sigh passed her lips to peer down upon the Beta. Sprawled, taking up every bit of mussed nest he could stake a claim to. A gentle rise and fall of his chest, his expression unguarded.
In sleep, Jules transformed into something he was not.
Tender, peaceful.
The lie of harmlessness in the softness of his drowsing expression.
Now, she could stare all she wished. Now, she could see that face as more than a collection of individual features.
This was her mate.
The man with the swirling marks over his flesh was hers.
Click. Click. Click!
That single thought, and a sense of ownership, slipped out like a runny egg to cook on her malfunctioning brain.
And sizzled.
“Brenya?”
In fascinated wonder, she drank Jules down. The line of his nose, the light sprinkling of chest hair, the muscles that rippled over his hard stomach, the perfection of his Da’rin.
There were stories and secrets, darker than the history of the blood-soaked Red Room, in that man. Old scars that looked so vicious she wondered how he had survived the wounds that made them.
The inky ocean of his darkest thoughts rippled.
Delicately, Brenya pressed her nose to his skin once more, breathing deep just to savor. Like the newfound details of the Red Room, Jules’s scent had grown more layered and far too appealing.
Musk, strength, a delicious blend that left her mouth watering.
Pulsating, his sea moved languidly around her thoughts, indulgent in her attention. Even in his dreams, his mind was vigilant of her shores.
Soft. Steady. Dangerous.
The strangest feeling came over her, one she had no name for and met with curious concern.
He’d manipulated her on every possible level. In the dark, he’d coerced her to…
…to make love.
He’d assured she’d participated, with the threat of Jacques lurking in every shadow. Rewarded her with pleasure for every moment of pure attention. Reminded her that if she slipped, a cruel, angry Alpha was waiting… and that Jacques Bernard would not be so kind.
Jules Havel had been honest in the deceit he’d wielded so easily against a female so unwitting. He conquered her, and he’d done it without violence.
It was chilling. Should have sent her scuttling away to hide from such a beast. But his machinations had succeeded—their bond, her alien sense of attachment and strange, warm sentiment, had carved its way deep into her bones.
So long as he was with her, she now knew the nest was safe.
The macabre room around her? It was home.
The Beta’s body was her shelter. His avarice and evil beautiful when he wielded them to keep her secure.
Leaving Brenya unsure how indignant she should be.
With a wistful sigh, she knew she should have been furious. She tried to feel anger… but warmth oozed where his bond bore into her breast. Where it snuffed out each spark of rage, batting her resentment away as if it were nothing.
Like a game of cat and mouse.
Even in his sleep, he worked on her, triggering an irresistible urge for Brenya to hum a soft trill to calm his growing waves.
It was the same noise she had made when he’d moved inside her the night before. A throbbing music so instinctive she did not understand how she had lived her whole life unaware she was capable of singing such a hum.
This was the Omega.
The part of her banging on her skull until it cracked, desperate to be free.
To be acknowledged.
And it was the Omega that was leaking all over her thoughts and scratching at the inside of her eyelids every time she blinked.
Who stared down with soft eyes at her devious mate.
Who knew waking him was unconscionable, not when she was certain he had not slept so soundly… perhaps ever.
He was so beautiful.
Possessed profane knowledge of her body, wielded by a confident monster.
Memory of Jules’s fingers inside her, meticulous and perfect as they’d pushed in with a soft slurp where her cunt wept. The strange ridges ringing his cock, teasing, his entry firm, each withdrawal deliberate. His tongue swirling within her mouth.