Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Not with that bastard forcing us… Not with the pain collar threatening all of us.
But Dios, what choice did we even have?
She tried to push the memory aside, tried to separate the Burn she knew—the quiet, brooding warrior who watched over her so protectively—from the broken male who had taken her roughly in front of Thune’s leering faces. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. She knew that.
And Bright… Bright had tried to make it better, to ease her pain afterward with whispered comfort and gentle touches.
But this morning, Burn hadn’t met her gaze. He seemed to be angry—whether at himself or her, she wasn’t sure.
I wish I had more time. I wish I could talk to him, make him understand. I’m not mad at him. Not even a little. I just want us to be okay.
She straightened with a soft hiss as pain lanced up her thighs.
She had never been with anyone the size of either of the Kindred warriors. Her ex-husband Branson…well, let’s just say she hadn’t even known what it meant to feel full until she’d met Burn and Bright.
Branson hadn’t exactly had a micro penis—but he’d definitely qualified as undersized. And he’d always blamed her for not getting off during sex—like it was her fault his equipment came with a built-in disappointment guarantee.
And now… She rubbed her lower back and sighed. Now I can barely walk straight.
Cleaning Thune’s disaster of a bedroom wasn’t making things any easier. The floor was, as usual, littered with half-chewed bones, crushed snack wrappers, empty bottles, and what looked suspiciously like a crusty, used sock.
The bed itself looked like a nest a drunken animal had flopped around in. The mattress was sagging, the sheets were twisted and stained, and a sour, greasy odor clung to everything like a fungal growth.
She grimaced and pulled the covers up, trying to force the stiff sheet into something resembling hospital corners. Her inner thighs protested with every movement, but she pushed through the pain.
I’d rather do this a hundred times than go through another night like last night. It was too much—just too, too much.
She moved into the adjoining bathroom, holding her breath as she stepped over yet another pile of bones on the cracked tile floor.
Dios, what does he do—lie in the tub and eat? Mystery meat and bath time, is that it?
She eyed the ring of grime around the interior of the enormous tub. The water line was marked by a yellow-brown scum streaked with flecks of black and something that looked like hair or fur. Her stomach churned as she knelt beside it and opened the cabinet underneath the sink to grab the cleaning solution.
She froze.
Something was different this time. Pushed behind the squat jug of tub cleaner was a tall, dark blue bottle she hadn’t seen before.
Frowning, Noelle reached in and tugged it forward. The label was written in blocky alien script, but thankfully the translation bacteria she’d taken on the Kindred Mother Ship allowed her to read it.
“Sleep Aid,” the bottle said.
Curious, Noelle turned the bottle around and read the warning on the back.
“Warning—take one only. Do not combine with alcohol—may cause adverse effects.”
Her heart gave a little thump.
Adverse effects? What does that mean? How “adverse” are we talking about?
The bottle was bigger than any medicine container she’d ever seen—nearly twice the size of a mason jar. She unscrewed the lid and tilted it to peek inside.
Big, chalky pink tablets tumbled against each other like extra-large jawbreakers. Each pill was as big as the palm of her hand. Her fingers trembled as she reached in and plucked two out, then quickly tucked them into the deep pockets of her borrowed dress.
Just in case, she told herself. Maybe we can use these… Maybe they’ll come in handy. If we can get them into Thune or Cookie’s food somehow—
She didn’t finish the thought. She was afraid to hope too much.
The tub still needed cleaning, and she used the cleanser, scrubbing as best she could, trying not to gag as the smell of mildew and meat mingled in the air.
More bones littered the bottom—some cracked, some gnawed. One of them, long and curved, caught her eye.
She picked it up carefully.
It was smooth…heavy.
And shaped exactly like a human femur.
Noelle’s breath caught in her throat.
No. No way. It can’t be.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to dismiss the thought.
Probably from some other humanoid species…probably just looks familiar.
But her gut told her otherwise.
She carried the bone to the kitchen to toss it in the “bone barrel” where all the uneaten scraps went. She half-expected to find Cookie waiting for her—but the Trollox chef was nowhere in sight.
And the heavy, metal door to the meat locker was right there…unattended…forbidden.
Noelle’s heart began to pound.
This is the only chance you’re going to get, she thought. You have to know. You have to see for yourself.