Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
At first, Petru’s mind had stayed in hers. She resented that, afraid he’d see things in her she wanted to keep hidden. She was still so unsure of him. She had no desire to commit to a man outside her tribe. She feared that would make her less than honorable in his eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t intend to follow through; she just needed more time. But she wanted those thoughts private.
On the other hand, there was an intimacy she’d never known, sharing her mind with him. He kept his touch very light, almost a sliding velvet caress, as if he were simply making certain she was safe and comfortable while he was patrolling and learning the city and surrounding countryside.
Amara shook her head. “I tried to see him, I even tried to listen to what he was saying to Emmi,” she confessed, having the grace to blush. “But then I caught a glimpse of another man, but only his back, and he looked ferocious. I retreated immediately.”
Safia laughed. “Amara, how could he look ferocious from the back?”
“Trust me, he did. And I think he growled. And snarled. He had a lot of black hair. Lots of it. Very long.”
“That had to be Nicu.” Safia tapped her fingers against her thigh, trying to repress a smile. “He might have growled.”
Amara nodded solemnly. “No way was I going to put my ear against a door with that man standing around in the hallway.”
“Do you make a habit of putting your ear to the door?”
Amara grinned unrepentantly. “Yes. That was the only way to learn anything at all when I was growing up. Izem says I should just ask him anything I want to know, but it’s a habit and kind of fun to see if I can get away without being seen.”
“One of these days, you’ll get caught,” Safia warned.
Amara laughed. “I’ve been caught dozens of times by Jeddi. He just shakes his head and asks me if there is anything I particularly desire to know. If I say no, he has me sit down with him and talk about my day. I love that most of all.”
Safia knew it was the time Amastan spent with each family member that made them feel important and needed. Amara hadn’t had that growing up the way Safia and her siblings had. Amastan and Izem recognized her needs before any of the others had and immediately saw to them. The rest of the family followed their lead, and Amara had thrived in her new environment.
The smile faded from Amara’s face. “If this man isn’t good to you, Safia, we can find a way to sneak you away to Illi and Kab. They can take you across the desert. I know our family owes him, but trading your life for his services is wrong. I talked to Izem and he agrees with me. It’s not just Izem that feels that way; all of us do. The entire family owes him, not just you. You shouldn’t have to pay the debt for all of us.”
Safia loved her family even more. Tears burned behind her eyes. They were wonderful. How could she ever contemplate leaving them? Amara might seem very young and reckless at times, but she had a serious side, and she was extremely loyal and very courageous.
“His name is Petru Cioban, Amara. He came to me last night when I was wounded. I’d fought a vampire and the wounds were terrible.”
Amara’s eyes widened and she pressed her hand over her mouth. “Izem didn’t tell me. Does he know? Does anyone in the family know? Because Aura talked of you battling beetles and demons, but she didn’t say a word about vampires. Izem and Emmi destroyed a vampire, and we were celebrating that your plan worked. Not one word was said about you being injured.”
“I also sustained rather severe blood loss. I was very dizzy and weak and vulnerable to another attack. It is an understatement to say he was not happy to find me in that condition.”
Amara’s gaze ran over Safia, inspecting her, trying to look for injuries. “Where?” There was anxiety in her voice and eyes.
Safia glanced around the busy marketplace and stepped closer to Amara. She tugged at the colorful purple top she wore, pulling the material from one side of her neck and shoulder. The fabric was a beautiful ombré, starting with a vivid shade of deep royal purple and fading into a much lighter purple toward the bottom hem. It was one of Farah’s designs, and Safia particularly loved it.
Farah loved fashion and aspired to be a fashion designer. She’d gone to school for that purpose but stopped abruptly just before graduating and returned home. She was an amazing talent. Safia hoped one day she’d share why she decided against continuing forward with her dream. If she had told Usem, he kept her secret. She saved her skills for the family business, contributing her beautiful creations with her own label. They sold very well.