Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
She made a sound again, and this time it was softer, almost questioning. Her head tilted to one side, and something in her expression shifted.
The aggression I had expected, bared teeth and raised hackles, didn’t happen. Instead, the dog approached the bed with a cautious, almost tentative curiosity, her tail low but not tucked, her body language more uncertain than threatening.
The other two males followed, moving in tandem, their movements synchronized with the precision of animals that had been trained to work as a unit. They fanned out around the bed, positioning themselves at strategic points… one at the foot, one at the side, and Nyx nearest to my head.
God, her jaw was massive, and I knew if she wanted, she could crush bone without effort.
The weight of their combined attention pressed down on me like a physical force, heavy and suffocating.
Nyx brought her face closer to mine, and my chin wobbled with a cry, absolute terror slithering through my veins. Her lips pulled back slightly to reveal white enormous teeth. A low sound vibrated in her chest, and it wasn’t quite a growl. It was more like a rumble.
A warning… or maybe a greeting.
I couldn’t tell the difference, and at that moment, the distinction didn’t matter.
I was going to die.
The thought arrived with a strange clarity… not hysterical, not panicked, but calm and certain. This was how Adrian had planned my death. For his Dobermans to eat me alive.
Did they know the taste of human flesh? Did they crave it?
Nyx placed her front paws on the mattress. The bed dipped under the weight, and it became clear to me that she was going to jump. She was going to launch herself onto the bed and—
She jumped.
I screamed.
The mattress compressed beneath the impact of sixty or so pounds of solid muscle, and I flinched so violently, my whole body convulsed.
She landed next to me. Not on me, not near my throat, not anywhere that would kill me—but beside me. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her lithe body and smell the clean, animal scent of her sleek fur.
She lowered her head.
The movement was slow, deliberate, almost cautious. Her massive skull descended until her nose was level with my hand, which lay frozen at my side, fingers curled into the sheet.
She sniffed. Once. Twice. The wetness of her nose brushed against my knuckles, and I felt every individual hair on my body stand at attention, goosebumps peppering my skin.
I held my breath.
Her tongue came out. It was pink and warm and rough, and it dragged across the back of my hand in a single, slow stroke that left a trail of saliva on my skin.
Oh… my… God.
She licked me again. Then she pressed her head against my hand, not aggressively, but with a gentleness that bordered on pleading.
She… wanted me to touch her, to pet her…
The absurdity of it… the sheer, mind-bending contradiction of a creature built for violence displaying such tenderness broke something loose inside me.
A sound escaped my throat, something between a laugh and a sob, and her ears perked forward, her head tilting again in that questioning way.
Nyx nudged me again, almost affectionately, more insistently this time, and then settled beside me, her body pressed against my side. She made a low, rumbling sound in her chest that vibrated through the mattress.
Not a growl. A purr. She was purring.
My fingers uncurled. Slowly.
The other two had settled as well—one at the foot of the bed, curled into a tight, watchful ball, and the other sitting upright near the door, their posture alert but relaxed.
They weren’t guarding me, I realized with a dawning, bewildered understanding.
They were guarding the room. From outside threats. From anyone who might try to enter.
They were protecting me.
The thought sent a complicated shudder through me.
I lifted a trembling hand and placed it on Nyx’s head. Her fur was short and dense, warm beneath my palm, and the doberman pressed upward into the touch, her eyes half-closing in what looked unmistakably like pleasure.
I scratched behind her ear, and she made that rumbling sound again, deeper this time, her body fully relaxing against mine.
The door opened.
The dogs didn’t react. They didn’t even move. Nyx’s eyes opened, but she remained pressed against my side, her body a warm, immovable weight.
Adrian stood in the doorway.
He was dressed in dark clothing—black pants and a charcoal shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows—and he carried a tray.
“You’re awake,” he deadpanned. It wasn’t a question, just purely a matter of fact.
I said nothing.
My hand remained on Nyx’s head, my fingers buried in her fur, and I watched him cross the room with the fluid, predatory grace that never failed to set my nerves on edge.
“Why did you bring me back here?” I asked quietly.
Adrian didn't answer immediately. He tsked under his breath as he placed the tray of food on the nightstand beside me. “Oh no, wife.” His voice was deceptively calm. You don’t get to ask the questions anymore.”