Total pages in book: 203
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Erica wrapped them in special protective material, then rolled them up inside two of my t-shirts this morning before Rye drove me to the airport.
Being the one holding the artifacts is another reason I wouldn’t want to let my guard down in public. Something isn’t sitting right with me about this. There’s unease in my veins. I’m guessing I’ll feel better when these witch tools are safely where they need to go, but it’s more than this Starling coven shit that’s got me on guard.
I’m on the cusp of finding out who is going to be by my side for the rest of my days. The female that’ll give me pups. The one who’s supposed to be all I’ll ever want or need.
And there’s been a whack of drama lately. The saving grace is we’re over the hump, past the halfway mark through the council and this means two things. If the chain of events so far is anything to go by this means that one: there are only three more dramas to play out and two: since it’s my turn, I’ll soon be dropped into a vat of it.
At least I know things are okay at home. For now. Sherry is with my parents. My youngest sister is home on a break from school and she’s good at handling Sherry. My older sister keeps bringing my nieces and nephews over to hang out, not for Sherry as much as for my mother, who is so distraught over my sister that she needs to keep busy and having the whole clan over helps with that.
Sherry isn’t okay; probably won’t be for a while. But at least she’s out of the clutches of that asshole Meadows who mated her before he was killed. She hasn’t said much about what went down with him, but she has a haunted look about her.
But she’s surrounded by pack who can help her get back to who she is again. Or maybe, like my other sisters Taylor and Gwen are hoping – a humbler, less brittle version of herself.
I’m not sure if it’s just paranoia, the timeline we’ve seen so far, or if my gut is right in telling me my own drama is gonna kick off while I’m on this trip. I don’t have a supernatural second sight gift, but my eyes, nose, and ears are all on high alert and I’m feeling like this plane is flying into the eye of my storm. I half-expected something to happen that’d keep me home, but since it didn’t, I suspect it’ll either kick off while I’m away or it’ll happen right when I get back. The way Mase was moved out of the way by the coven to align things for his mating, maybe I’m being moved in preparation for mine.
Or there will be a lull and I’ll have to suffer watching and waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. That’d be my luck, my penance for dreading what’s to come.
Of course, I’ve looked around both in the airport and on this plane wondering if I’ll scent her, whoever she is.
A shifter? A witch? A human flight attendant?
I’ve been trying to tell myself that que sera shit – whatever will be is what it’ll be, to just wait for it. But patience probably isn’t one of my strengths and I’m braced for a gut punch. Because each of these girls mated to my council brothers has been in peril, some of them repeatedly, which means I’m probably looking toward more of the same.
Linc is all moved out of the house, set up for now above Roxy’s Bar with plans to build a place on the shores of the lake between Tyson and Mase. My mom and Taylor went over and cleaned it just in case I wind up bringing my mate home with me. My house is probably the cleanest it’s been since me and the guys moved into it when we finished school so if I do bring my mate home with me, at least there’s that.
2
BAILEY BLACKWOOD
My eyes open and I blink away the cobwebs after that dream. That… dream. What was that?
I’m leaning on someone. A human. Oops! I straighten up and mutter, “I’m so sorry” to the older woman in the plane seat beside me as I fix my askew eyeglasses.
“That’s okay, dear,” she chirps happily and adjusts the little yellow baby bootie she’s knitting. “Good you woke up when you did. My arm was falling asleep.”
I repeat my apology as I check my wrist for the time while squeezing my crinky neck. Still four hours left on this flight.
I didn’t sleep for very long, but I had a weirdly vivid and veering toward sexual dream. About Jason!
I need to splash cold water on my currently flaming face.
Dream Jase was shirtless, jeans undone, and he was hovering over me, asking me why I smell like apple pie. But then he quirked up his left eyebrow and gruffly said, “Did you know apple pie is my favorite, kiddo? And I gotta tell you… I really, really need a bite.”