Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
He didn’t say anything.
“He insulted me first.”
Henri kept looking at me, and I kind of expected him to rip me a new one, or at least scold me—he had that bossy vibe going on after all—but all he did was stand there. Not glaring. Not staring. Just looking calm, cool, and neutral as I stood there in shorts and a big T-shirt that said South Dakota in cursive orange letters on it.
Dang it.
I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have reminded anyone that there was something in me that would scare a Jenny Greenteeth and make a bigfoot flustered. I needed to blend in. I knew that better than anyone. But….
“He hurt my feelings,” I tried to explain, not that I expected them to understand that I was sensitive over his insults, but it was the truth. You could make fun of just about any other part of me or my body, but demon, evil, and abomination were my trigger words.
I wasn’t proud of who I became when I heard them, but I also figured I could react a lot worse than I had.
Henri pressed dark pink lips together, and after a second, he lifted a hand, crooking his finger in a “come here” gesture.
That took me back to when I’d been a kid and he’d catch Matti and me doing something we shouldn’t have been up to. He’d been bossing people around ever since then, hadn’t he?
I pressed my lips together right back. I took my time getting over fallen trees and sharp branches. By the time I made it over to where they stood—Henri, the man, and the woman—Henri’s face was still mostly clear.
I dropped my shoulders and tipped my face up at him. “Yes?”
His eyebrow shot up a millimeter, the gesture so small I almost missed it, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the same time. His face was so grave, if I hadn’t known him as a teenager, I would’ve thought he practiced it in the mirror, but he’d been good at it back then. He was just better at it now.
And why did he have to be this good-looking?
Those amber eyes bounced from one of mine to the other.
I smiled at him cautiously.
“You made fun of his hair?” His question was slow, like he hadn’t been standing right there the whole time. Or maybe he thought he’d misheard?
I lifted my hands, palms up, at my sides and dropped them.
Henri Blackrock blinked.
The leader of this community, the sword and the gavel for its residents, stared down at me.
And it was so easy to picture him at that moment with a battle-ax in one hand and a sword in his other, a thick beard on his jaw, as he made his Scandinavian ancestors proud.
Had I screwed up already?
Was he that mad?
Out of nowhere, when I least expected it, the corner of his mouth hitched up and those eyes I hadn’t been able to get over—orangey light brown irises weren’t something you came across any ol’ day of the week—glittered.
I was confused.
A dry, rough chuckle rumbled out of his chest, slow and steady, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man and the woman suddenly grin.
Henri wasn’t mad?
“We were seconds away from a confrontation, and you told a five-hundred-pound sasquatch he had split ends.” His smile grew bigger by the second, and he even squinted at me. “You lost your goddamn mind?”
He thought this was funny.
He thought this was funny.
Right in front of me, Henri swiped a palm down his face, cupping his mouth while he shook his head.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen or heard him be this amused.
But I liked it.
I opened my mouth, closed it, and then shrugged. “Little bit, I guess. He hurt my feelings, and I wanted to hurt his back.” I thought about that for a second. “Was it too much? Maybe I crossed the line.”
Those intense irises met mine, his smile and amusement wiping away in a second once more. His expression resetting to that familiar, no-nonsense one that had handled everything that had happened yesterday like a professional. “He deserved it. He insults everyone. That’s why he isn’t allowed close to the community. We have a yeti that’s a welcome member, but sasquatches are notorious assholes that are difficult to live with.”
What was the difference between a yeti and a sasquatch? I was going to need to ask someone. In the meantime, I settled for nodding at him, like this whole situation wasn’t mindboggling in the first place.
But that was two random mythical creatures in the woods in less than twenty-four hours. Two!
In my old life, I wasn’t a stranger to running into magical beings from time to time. I’d run into a kitsune or two—a revered nine-tailed fox that went by many names in many cultures. I knew to expect aquatic-based beings when I was on the coast. There was a town in Maine that was full of selkies. But I could also go months in between coming across other magical people, so this was wild.