Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what kind of delusion you’re under, buddy,” I said. “But I have never in my life turned into a wolf during the full moon or any other time.”
“Of course you haven’t,” he said impatiently. “Female Weres don’t have Wolves—only Males do.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. I would have put a hand on my hip if my wrists weren’t still cuffed in front of me. “You could say that any woman is a ‘Were’ if you went by those standards! And who could prove any different, since none of them have ‘wolves’ inside?”
“You need only look at your own body to know you’re one of us.” Without warning, he whipped the filthy blanket from around my shoulder and dropped it on the floor with a grimace of distaste. “Ugh! I’ll have to burn that!”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, but I was afraid I knew. He kept saying I was a ‘Were.’ Was that why my breasts kept on leaking the strange amber liquid and my pussy was so wet that my juices were dripping down my thighs? Also, my body felt so wrong…so achy and empty and—
No! This couldn’t be right. I couldn’t just accept that I was somehow a werewolf. That was crazy talk—right?
“I can see what you’re thinking,” Raymond, who had been watching me struggle with myself, remarked. “Yes, the reason your breasts are leaking nectar and your…other parts are leaking honey is proof that you’re a Were. A Were who’s going into her first Heat Cycle. Which means you’re going to need to be bred very soon.”
I suddenly remembered that Fake Kane had talked about “breeding” too. Also, he’d had a knot at the base of his cock and so had Real Kane. Did that mean that both of them were “Weres?”
“Does all this have something to do with knotting?” I asked uncertainly.
“It does.” Raymond nodded. “Come into the bathroom,” he added. “You’re filthy.”
“First answer my questions,” I said stubbornly. “What is a Recessive Omega? And how could I possibly be one?”
“A Recessive Omega is a female Were who doesn’t come into her Heat Cycle until late—most Omegas go into heat as early as fifteen,” he remarked. “Of course, they can’t be bred at that age—or they shouldn’t be—but a Recessive Omega might not enter her first Cycle until ten years later than that.”
“But what does it mean that I’m having this, uh Cycle thing?” I demanded.
“As I said, it means you’ll have to be bred very soon or you could go into Heat Fever,” Raymond told me. “That’s a nasty illness that can kill you very quickly. So my advice to you is, whoever buys you, get him to breed you at once.”
“What? I’m not going to beg some stranger to breed me!” I protested. But I couldn’t help remembering Fake Kane’s knot and how much I’d wanted to try having it in me. And that was, presumably, before my “Heat Cycle” even really got going. I was much further along than I had been then and I felt empty inside—almost desperate! But I wasn’t about to admit that.
“You’d better beg,” Raymond the stylist said grimly. “Unless you’d rather end up dead. And believe me, death by Heat Fever isn’t pretty, my dear. You literally roast from the inside out. Your body temperature will go higher and higher until you die from heat exhaustion. I’ve even heard of a few neglected Omegas dying from spontaneous combustion.”
“You’re just trying to scare me!” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “That can’t be true!”
He shrugged his narrow shoulders.
“I truly don’t care if you believe me or not. My only job is to get you ready for the EBA tonight. So come on—into the shower.”
He pushed me forcefully into the bathroom where a large marble shower with four jets—two overhead and two on the side walls of the shower—sprayed me from all angles. He made me wash my hair with expensive smelling shampoo and scrub my body all over with equally expensive body-wash.
None of this was easy with my hands still cuffed, but I managed. Honestly, I wanted to get clean as much as he wanted me clean—I hated the smell of the filthy blanket I’d been forced to use to keep warm all night. I didn’t like being naked in front of him, but it was pretty clear he wasn’t attracted to me, which made things a little easier.
Once I came out, Raymond dried me off and wrapped me in a towel. He was going to start styling me immediately, but I begged for something to eat. I hadn’t had a thing since the few handfuls of popcorn I’d eaten the night before and I was starting to feel faint.
“Oh, very well,” he sighed. “But nothing too bulky—we want you looking fierce tonight!”