Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 119764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
It does not matter that the Rift is not open, or that I have lost my people. As long as I have Dakota, I do not care.
As if she can sense my thoughts, she looks up from her book and smiles at me. I send her a wave of affection, knowing she won’t be able to feel it, but wanting it anyhow.
“That’s all for me,” Dakota says, closing the book as she finishes the story. She yawns dramatically, setting off a series of yawns in the cats around us. Rabbit has one in her lap and a kitten held up against the crook of her neck. “We should all head to bed. If the weather’s good, maybe we can go forage for some greens. There might be dandelions left in the area and I could go for a salad.”
Rabbit closes her eyes and makes a happy face. “I would kill for a salad.”
Is this something I can get for them? Is it a bird of some kind? They are less easy to pick off than the deer or cattle, but I don’t mind a challenge. “Murr hunt salad?”
The females all chuckle.
“It’s not something you hunt!” Rabbit declares.
“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” Dakota says, and gets to her feet. “For now, bedtime.” And she looks at me with expectation on her face, asking me to join her.
I rise, displacing the cats that have piled themselves against me to share in my warmth, and the shorts pinch against my cock again. With a wince, I hobble forward and follow my mate.
The humans all sing out choruses of “good night” and “don’t let the bed bugs bite,” and Aggie calls out something nonsensical about riding and champion bulls and makes Dakota emit a strangled sound. She still smells happy, though, so I take her hand and let her lead me into the darkness of the building, where our quarters are now set up.
When we’re in our quarters, Dakota draws a stiff, rustling curtain across. “Shower curtain, but it acts as a door,” she says, and seems pleased by it. “Are you all right? You’ve been making some weird faces tonight.”
“Shorts,” is all I say, and adjust myself with a grimace.
Dakota huffs with amusement, and her hands go to the waistband of the hated clothing. “Maybe more kilts are best for you. I bet I can make you some better ones. You don’t have to wear the shorts.”
Now that is a relief. I pull them off with a vicious rip, enjoying the sound of the fabric tearing.
“We’ll go shopping tomorrow,” she tells me, her arms sliding around my waist. “We’ll look for food, and some plain fabric, and maybe more towels.”
“Towels?” I echo. “Explain?”
She moves in, pulling me down so that she can nibble on my jaw. “To put underneath us during sex. So we don’t ruin the blankets.”
Aha. “Clever mate.”
“Indeed.” Her tiny teeth scrape against my skin, sending a shiver along my spine. Oh, I like it when she bites me.
I pick her up by the hips and carry her the two quick steps to the bedding and set her down on the pile of blankets. “Now Dakota quiet?” I whisper, sliding my hand under her shirt to caress her breast. “Be good.”
“I can be quiet,” she promises.
In the end, we learn that she is quietest when my mouth is on her.
CHAPTER 79
DAKOTA
It’s never occurred to me that I can just fly off with my husband for scavenging. For some reason, when I’d pictured us heading out, I thought we’d be trekking on foot. I put on my most comfortable hiking boots, stuffed my traveling backpack with supplies for the day, and checked in with Rabbit to make sure she’d be okay staying behind.
“Can I come on the next trip?” Rabbit asks, using two forks to shred a pan of leftover meat for a bevy of howling cats. “I want to see what it’s like to fly.”
“Fly…?” I echo.
And then I feel stupid. Of course we’d fly. Murr has wings. With him flying us, we’d be able to scout from above and look for stores that are more out of the way and less picked-over. I can look for plant nurseries in the hopes of finding some wild sprouts. We can cover so much more ground.
I just hope I’m not afraid of heights. Riding a rollercoaster as a kid is one thing, being held in a dragon’s claws as he flies hundreds of feet into the air is another entirely. Surely I can be brave about this, though? I smile at my daughter, even though my thoughts are spiraling. “Next time.”
Then I go and hug her tightly. Just in case I don’t get another chance.
“You’ll be fine, Mom,” she tells me with a laugh.
“I know. Murr won’t let me fall.” I hesitate to let her go, then whisper in her ear. “Keep an eye on Dottie, okay? I’m worried she’s not feeling well and hiding it.”