Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
I had to admit it had. I also had to admit that her strength and boldness set a fire burning within me. A lot of dragons just seemed out there. I liked them, but they were on a level all their own. She seemed . . . accessible, somehow. On par with me, as ridiculous as that notion sounded.
She nodded as though she knew it. “Don’t let him hold you back, Aurelia. Mates like yours—like mine—want to protect us at all costs. That is super sexy, but it can also be smothering. Don’t let him put you in a gilded cage and fluff your pillow as he shuts the door. You gotta fly free and experience life. Or, in your case, run wild and call your pack. You’re a natural at it.”
I thought about that as I dressed, about the joy I felt that they had run with me. That they had played.
“By the way . . .” She gave me a side-eye. “If Weston finds out those wolves left their posts to chase you, they’ll be in some serious trouble. They broke the rules for you.”
“I’ll do better,” I said automatically as I fastened my shirt.
She froze and then pushed the edge of her hand against my arm, leaning toward me. “Ew, what? You’ll do better? Gross, Aurelia. No, you won’t do better. You already did great by breaking the rules so that you could flex and learn your wolf while she learned her pack. What I mean is they won’t tell on themselves or each other because they won’t want to get in trouble. If you tattled on them, it would ruin the bond you’re just starting to build.”
“Oh.” I huffed out a breath. “Sorry, I’m not used to a superior telling me that it is okay to cause trouble. No, I had no intention of telling and getting anyone in trouble, myself included.”
“Good. I figured, because you ate that poisonous stuff and didn’t mention it to Weston, but you never know. Right, you ready?”
I shrugged because I had no idea what we were doing.
“Good enough.” She started walking forward, her stride long and determined.
I hurried to catch up.
“Do you know this village?” I tore my eyes away from her commanding presence. There were probably few things more awkward than walking beside someone, staring at them bug-eyed while struggling to keep up for all you were worth. My weirdness probably made her nervous.
“Yours, right?” I said. “Didn’t Hadriel say that?”
“Yes. I grew up under a curse where everyone around me was dying—my mom, my grandma. Toward the end, Hannon and I tried to keep our family going and keep my dad alive while we stared death right in the eye. It was a miserable existence. A traumatizing one.”
I nodded as we crossed the dried grasses to the lane I’d traveled before, leading into the center of the cute, homey village.
“It was also this weird sort of social time freeze.” Her gaze skimmed over the houses we were coming up on, and I realized I was staring again. “The women here all wore dresses, tended house, cooked meals, looked after their mates. Hell, their whole world revolved around getting a mate and then looking after him. My strengths were more in hunting, fighting, weapons . . . It was no secret that I wanted more than that provincial life. But not following norms—wearing pants when I should be in a dress, putting my life on the line to get food when even men wouldn’t, shopping while covered in dirt—all that was seen as . . . different. ‘Not right.’ And different here was seen as threatening. Hannon, too, didn’t fit. He liked tending house and looking after our younger siblings. He cooked and patched me up. He was the rock our family clung to. He was mocked for it. Ridiculed.”
Her gait slowed as the village neared; she was not ready to cross its borders.
“We were seen as odd, both of us. Our whole family, really. We didn’t have friends, and while we could’ve had suitors because of our looks, we weren’t respected. They tried to beat us down to make us conform, and treated us harshly because we wouldn’t.”
She fell silent for a moment, and I could tell it was cathartic to talk about it.
“Even with all that,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I worked my plants and helped the village stay alive. I worked day in and day out trying to find a cure. I taught people how to work the Everlass and delivered any extra food to those too sick to hunt for themselves. Despite being an outcast, I created a cohesive community out of sheer . . .”
“Bullheadedness?”
She spat out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, when I spell it all out like this, I’m like—why did I fucking bother? But honestly, at the time I just could not bear to see people suffer. I did not want my community falling down around me, because the unity of a community—of a pack—can help everyone thrive. The strong lift up the vulnerable. The able help the ailing. At the end of the curse, it was my village—poor, out of the way, and with no real resources—that was the healthiest. Why? Because we worked together.”