Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
There was still a dull ache in her chest…a space shaped exactly like two Kindred warriors.
She hadn’t seen Burn once since arriving on the Mother Ship. And while Bright had visited once more, his entire energy was dimmed, like a star flickering at the edge of collapse.
“He won’t take my calls,” Bright had said, his voice hollow. “Not even the Think-me. I tried bespeaking him mentally… nothing. Just a blank wall.”
Noelle had clenched her jaw.
Fine. If Burn was too stubborn to answer Bright, maybe he’d answer her.
And so, she had a plan.
Step One—go back to her suite and pack her things for Earth.
Step Two—call both Bright and Burn and ask—no, insist—that they meet her.
Step Three—get them in a room together and make them talk. Just talk.
Step Four…? Well, she had the Bonding Fruit. Just in case.
Even if they never managed to form a Twin-Bond—even if the prophecy was dead and gone—she was still willing to try. Willing to love them both. Because what the three of them had shared had meant something.
And she wasn’t letting it go without a fight.
The suite was exactly as she’d left it—clean, quiet, and far too large for one person.
Her suitcase was where she’d left it too, and she pulled it onto the bed and started packing. A few sweaters, her favorite necklace, a pair of boots. She added a small wrapped package for her Abuela—Kindred face cream and tea that glowed faintly pink—and zipped it closed.
But just as she turned to go activate the viewscreen and place the call—Flash-Flash-Flash. The screen pulsed green.
Her heart leapt—was it Bright? Or had Burn finally come to his senses and called her himself?
She crossed the room quickly, her fingers hovering over the Accept icon. A small smile curved her lips.
“Please let it be one of them,” she murmured, and tapped the screen.
But the face that appeared was not Kindred—it was human.
A man in cammo gear with a gaiter mask pulled up over his mouth and nose stared back at her. A dark baseball cap shadowed his eyes, and mirrored sunglasses reflected the soft lights of her suite back at her. Only his voice was clear.
“Hey, babe,” the man said. “Guess who.”
His voice was a slow, oily drawl that sent ice water down her spine.
Noelle’s smile vanished and her blood turned to ice.
That voice…it was so horribly familiar.
“No…” she whispered. Her hands trembled.
The man tilted his head slightly and tapped his temple—just once—with a gloved finger.
“You didn’t think you could hide forever, did you?” he asked conversationally. “Took me a while, but I found you.”
Noelle couldn’t breathe.
It was him—her ex. The man who’d sworn he’d hunt her down. The one who wore a badge and thought it gave him the right to do anything.
The screen crackled.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Branson said.
74
NOELLE
Noelle stared at the viewscreen as if it were a nightmare made of pixels and static.
It can’t be. It can’t be him. It can’t be…
Her mind spun in useless circles, grasping for any explanation. Her palms felt clammy. Her knees went watery. Her breath came too shallow and too fast.
The man on the screen shifted, the brim of his baseball cap casting his mirrored eyes into deeper darkness.
“Who—?” she began, though she already knew.
“Don’t play games,” Branson drawled. “You know it’s me, babe.”
Then he reached up with a gloved hand and tugged down the camo-patterned gaiter mask, revealing the face she’d hoped never to see again—her personal nightmare made flesh.
The man she’d spent months trying to escape.
“No…” she breathed, her stomach dropping with dread.
The thin, pale line of his mouth curled upward. It wasn’t a smile—it was the hard-edged mockery of one.
“So, are you having fun up there on the Kindred Mother Ship?” he sneered. “Been fucking lots of those big Kindred assholes?”
The venom in his tone should have scared her—but instead, something inside her snapped and a fury she’d repressed for years rose to the surface.
Noelle lifted her chin.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” she said coolly. “Two of them, in fact.”
Branson’s beady eyes narrowed to mean little slits.
“You little whore,” he spat. “I knew you went up there just to cheat on me!”
“No, Branson,” Noelle retorted. “I came up here to teach a class—and to get away from you.” Her voice trembled only slightly. “I left you the divorce papers on the kitchen table. Just sign them and we can both move on.”
“Move on?” he barked. “Fuck that! I told you, I’m never letting you go.” His lip curled. “Now get your ass back down to Earth.”
“No.” Noelle’s voice was like ice. “I’m staying here on the Mother Ship. The Kindred protect women.” Her throat tightened. “They don’t beat them or hurt them.”
“I only punished you when you deserved it!” Branson exploded. “Wasn’t my fault you were so damn mouthy—I had to beat some respect into you!”
“Dios, listen to yourself,” she snapped. “You’re disgusting. And you look ridiculous. Why are you even dressed like that? It’s not hunting season.”