Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
There’s a steady, crashing roar somewhere, and the smell of water. I abandon the pursuit of my prey and follow the scent and volume of the sound. My feet find a cold, trickling stream, and I lope up it, the current becoming stronger and deeper until I reach the shallow basin beneath a half-moon cliff. Water cascades over the lip of the rock shelf that juts out far overhead, into the pool below.
There are other wolves here, drinking the water, lounging on the frozen, muddy banks. I hear the growls and grunts of mating not far off; in my human form, I would be mortified. The beast I am now shivers with joy. I want Nathan to take me again, to roll with me on the pockets of snow sheltered by the trees. I want to see the stars over his shoulder. There are so many more stars in the night sky than I’ve ever been able to see before.
A wide, flat rock just barely surfaces the freezing water, and I wade over to it. Nathan is near; I feel him moments before he emerges from the trees, half the rabbit clutched in his jaws. He splashes through the stream and nudges my muzzle with the portion of the animal that he’s saved for me. I take it from him with my teeth. I sit cross-legged on the rock and savor the warm, wet meat and the crunch of the animal’s bones between my teeth. I devour it in seconds and toss the skin aside.
Nathan puts his arm around me and draws me close to him. I nuzzle his neck, breathe in the scent of the forest that clings to him. This is right. The problems that plague our other nature still exist, but they’re impossible to focus on now. When I look human again, when my mind isn’t consumed by the joy and beauty of the natural world, and my preternatural part in it, I’ll have so many challenges to face. A family in exile. A pack full of traitors. A mate I can’t trust.
A throne I’m not ready for.
But tonight, under the light of the moon that’s become as much a part of me as my heart or my brain, everything is perfect.
Deep in the forest, someone begins a far-off call. The howl rings through the crisp air, and all the wolves around us stop, poised to listen. It’s Nathan who answers, his voice mournful and deep as he pays tribute to the night sky.
The others join in, becoming a symphony of worship all around me.
This is my pack. I’m a part of them now. A part of a world beyond mortal comprehension. I toss my head back.
And I howl.
CHAPTER 26
Two days after my first transformation, I’m still ravenous. At first, I was exhausted. I didn’t mourn the fact that my mating ceremony reception didn’t happen; I would have slept through it, anyway. I spent twenty-four hours sleeping, waking up only to pee and scarf down whatever the thralls left in my bedroom, regardless of its temperature. When one’s body has completely transformed into a totally different creature and back again, even rubbery, cold eggs are delicious.
“Maybe I got a parasite from that rabbit,” I muse aloud. I finally woke up enough to come down to breakfast with my mate, who watches with amusement as I demolish plate after plate of pancakes, ham, bacon, fried potatoes, and more apple juice than my body should be capable of holding.
“A parasite wouldn’t affect you like this so soon.” He chuckles to himself. “From the rabbit or from me.”
It takes me a minute—and another spoonful of oatmeal—to get what he’s talking about. “I wouldn’t refer to a baby as a parasite. But maybe we should have discussed this before we had all this unprotected sex.”
“What is there to discuss?” He frowns and cuts another bite from his extremely rare steak.
“The timing, for one,” I say cautiously. “I know that we’re going to have kids. I just don’t know when you were planning to start actually trying.”
“We’ve given it two tries already,” he reminds me. “The sooner we have an heir, the better. You’re, what? Twenty-two? Ideally, we have over a hundred possible children, if you become pregnant every year.”
I actually snort apple juice up my nose. I cover it with my napkin and gasp, “A hundred?”
“I would settle for eighty,” he says, as if that answer is somehow going to make me feel better.
I might faint.
He grins at me. “I’m joking, Bailey.”
“Don’t do that,” I admonish him, sheepish that I actually fell for it. “I have no idea what kind of a person you are. I thought you were serious, and I was going to have to throw myself out a window.”
“The windows on these floors don’t open,” Nathan laments.
I can’t stand even a momentary silence. “So, how many kids do you want?”