Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
His cheek is twitching. He gives up the battle and starts laughing out loud.
“That’s what you think happens in the city?”
“Yeah. Something like that. Or I’ll start collecting furniture. I’ll put a hundred chairs in a room.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you do that. Any of that. Nobody is going to staple the internet to your forehead. Come here.” He draws me into a tight hug, which I know I don’t deserve because I sound bratty even to my own ears. But I wanted this so bad. And I have no idea what life is going to be like now that the forest is gone.
CHAPTER 10
Ellie
Karl lives in the biggest house I’ve ever fucking seen. Columns. So many columns. And the interior is massive and decorated with the kind of fancy furniture you could put in a photo shoot. It’s a little odd, honestly. It doesn’t remind me of Karl at all.
“This is my father’s dwelling,” he says. “It’s where the alpha of Louisiana lives. That’s why I’m living here, and it’s why you’re going to live here too. You’re likely already pregnant, you know. We should be setting up a nursery for the baby.”
“I feel like you’re getting ahead of yourself. I’m not necessarily pregnant. That could take months to happen. Or years.”
“If it does, I’ll enjoy a very long period of trying,” he says, unfazed. “What would you like to eat? We have a chef who will make anything you like.”
“We have a chef?”
“Yes.”
I frown. This is a whole other world, and I don’t belong.
“Where are my brothers?”
“Tim and Tate are working. Connor is at school. Feel free to explore the house, baby. I need to handle some business.”
Just like that, he leaves me alone in the place.
It would be so ungrateful to say that I don’t like his house. I come from a rotten swamp hut. I know he expects me to act like I’ve been rescued from horror. But I could be myself out there in the wilds, and in this city I will have to pretend to be human more often than not—a fate worse than death in some respects.
“Ellie!”
A boy wraps his arms around my waist unexpectedly while I am wandering the halls.
I almost don’t recognize my youngest brother. He is wearing a blue blazer, white shirt with a gold and blue tie, and tan pants with shoes so shiny I can see my face in them. His hair, long and shaggy in the woods, has been cut and brushed into a clean style.
He looks up, sees me, and his face transforms to the one I have always known. He drops his bag and rushes me with a big hug.
“I missed you, buddy,” I tell him. “I’m sorry I was away for so long.”
“They make me wear socks,” he says.
“I’m sorry. That’s fucked up,” I commiserate.
“It is.”
“Snacks are ready, Master Connor.”
A butler appears. He’s a tall, thin man with a dancer’s body and a general air of haughtiness. He barely looks at me at all. His eyes skim over me as if I am something he doesn’t deign to acknowledge, then he is ushering my brother off to the kitchen for food.
“Are you coming?” Connor stops and looks back at me.
“I guess?”
“I am sure the… lady is not here for snacks, Master Connor,” the butler says.
“She’s my sister, Baldwin,” Connor says. He’s already so comfortable talking to a servant. I don’t think I like that. In the woods, we did everything for ourselves. Here, someone else has cut his PB&J diagonally and gotten rid of the crusts as well. How absolutely fucking decadent can you get?
“My apologies, madam!” Baldwin is immediately apologetic. He knows that the sister of the boy is his master’s mate, I suppose.
“It’s okay. I look like trash and nobody bothered to introduce us. I was supposed to take a shower, but I got sidetracked.”
“Would you like me to draw you a bath?”
I look at him in confusion. “You can if you want, but I don’t know what I’d do with it. Stick it on the fridge, maybe?”
“No, madam,” Baldwin says, his expression masterfully controlled. “I meant would you like me to prepare you a bath, run water and such.”
He says it as if that’s supposed to make what he said less weird. As far as I am concerned, it makes it much, much more strange. I watch as he continues to get snacks for my younger brother, including a small box of juice. He pulls the plastic-covered straw off and sticks it in the little foil spot at the top before handing it to Connor.
“Oh. No. I can turn a tap, thank you.”
“Very good, mad…”
“Call me Ellie,” I say. “And stop serving Connor. The kid knows how to get his own snacks.”
“But Baldwin makes them just the right way,” Connor protests. He’s only been here a couple of weeks and he’s already getting used to being waited on. I hate that for him. I know it’s good he gets to go to a fancy school or whatever, but I don’t see how you can become a man with someone else putting the straw in your juice box.