Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
The food, as usual, is delicious. There are delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar, their layers flaky and golden…crispy bacon…soft scrambled eggs folded with cream and herbs. Thick slices of toasted bread are served in one of those wire toast racks you only see in movies that feature fancy hotels and there is honey and butter and strawberry jam to go with it. Fresh fruit is arranged artfully on porcelain plates. And to top it off, a pot of tea is steaming gently alongside coffee so rich it smells like heaven.
“Oh wow,” Hanna murmurs. “This is definitely better than my usual breakfast of hospital cafeteria food.”
I grin.
“High praise from a hospice nurse. Let’s eat.”
We dig in, savoring everything and it feels so nice to be having a meal with my friend. I can almost forget that we’re both in a strange, magical world that somehow exists outside the limits of reality. The warmth and normalcy of the moment settles around us like a blanket and the food tastes delicious.
Mr. Mittens, who apparently followed us down the hall, weaves around our legs beneath the table, tail high, purring loudly as if he owns the place now.
“Look at him,” I say dryly. “Apparently he has full run of the Crimson Spires now.”
“He’s definitely adjusted better than I have,” Hanna says, scratching him under the chin as he winds around her ankle, begging for a bite of bacon.
It almost feels like a normal morning. No, better than normal. Normal for me is a few bites of overnight oats and then rushing to work to clock in on time before anyone complains about me being “tardy.” I can’t remember the last time I had such a relaxed, leisurely morning.
It’s really nice.
"So what now?" Hanna asks, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied sigh and patting her stomach. "I mean, what's next on the agenda? Are we going home?"
The question hangs in the warm, fragrant air between us and I don’t know how to answer it.
The breakfast nook is still filled with the scent of buttery pastries and the last hints of rich, roasted coffee. The sunlight slanting through the arched windows paints golden-red pools across the rug, and Mr. Mittens is sprawled in one of them like a spoiled prince.
But something in me twists at the mention of going home.
I think of leaving the Shadow Realm…of walking out of this place forever. And then I think of Lucian. The way he held me last night, the tenderness in his touch…the way he looked at me like I was something precious. The taste of him on my tongue, and the feel of him between my legs…his mouth on me and his voice commanding me to come for him…
Do I really want to leave all that? Do I want to leave him?
"We are going home, aren't we? Jules? Hello?"
Hanna snaps her fingers under my nose, and I blink, startled out of the trance I'd slipped into.
"I don't know," I admit, folding my hands in my lap. "I haven't been here that long myself. I mainly spent my time trying to escape…and being traumatized by monsters. And then rescued by Lucian."
"Monsters? Plural?" Hanna frowns. "You told me about the Demon Don. What else tried to eat you up since you got here?"
I feel my cheeks get hot at her phrasing. Eat me up, indeed.
I push away the memory of Lucian’s mouth between my thighs, the possessive groan he made as he tasted me, and clear my throat.
"There was a…creature. In the dungeon. It covered me in slime and tried to take over my mind with…with horrible thoughts. That was the first time Lucian came to rescue me. He carried me back here and gave me a bath to get the slime off. Then he warmed me up…he made me feel safe," I finish softly.
"It sounds to me like you’re really beginning to care for this Vampire Don of yours," Hanna says slowly.
I bite my lower lip.
"I kind of am. I know he looks incredibly fierce and scary but…he's never been anything but gentle with me."
"Careful, Jules," Hanna warns, narrowing her eyes. "I know he’s hot, but you're going to talk yourself into staying in this weird place if you don't watch out."
I wave a hand, trying to brush it off, but the truth is, I'm rattled. Because more and more, I am thinking of staying. But I can’t admit that—not even to myself.
"No, I won't!” I say quickly. “I've just…never been with a man who actually loves curvy women before, that's all. Remember my last situationship with that jerk, Craig?”
“Ugh.” Hanna makes a face. “I never liked him.”
“I know—he never liked any of my friends either. So I said, ‘why don’t we hang out with your friends?’ But he kept making excuses to stay home—he never wanted me to meet his friends. And then, finally, he admitted he was ashamed for them to see me because I wasn't thin enough!"