Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
He pauses, lifting his nose as if scenting the air. “It definitely feels wilder out here. Like no humans have been this way in a while.”
I shiver as a cold breeze brushes across my skin and frown. Where is a breeze like that coming from on an eighty-five-degree day? When I realize it’s wafting from inside the cave, I shiver again. “I think we should put on another layer.”
Wes nods. “Our waterproof jackets, I think. It could be damp in there, too. And we can always stop and add a sweatshirt underneath later if it gets colder as we descend.”
“Descend?” I squeak, wondering if maybe I’m a little afraid of tightly enclosed spaces, after all.
“The cave drops about two hundred feet before leveling out as you start toward the other side of the mountain.” Wes pulls his zip-up jacket from his pack and slips it over his head, tugging it down around his hips. “The forum I was reading last night after you went to sleep said the ground is pretty uneven, so it’s good we wore hiking boots.”
I frown as I slip on my own jacket. “You did more research last night? You should have woken me up. I would have helped.”
He smiles as he pulls out our headlamps, stored in the front pocket of his larger pack. “You were already snoring. I didn’t want to interrupt your rest.”
I prop my hands on my hips with a huff. “I don’t snore.”
“Except when you do,” he says, his grin widening.
I huff again. “No, I don’t! If I did, someone would have told me by now. I have slept with other men, you know. All night long, sometimes for years and years at a time.”
His eyes narrowing and his smile falling away, he nods. “I know. And I’m jealous of every single one.”
My lips twitch, my irritation at being falsely accused of a crime fading. “You are?”
“Very, very jealous,” he says, bending to kiss me before whispering against my lips, “And it was a cute snore. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I glare up at him, fighting a smile. “I’m not embarrassed. Because I don’t snore, a fact I will prove by recording myself sleeping every night for a week once I get home. And when I prove to you that I am snore-free, I’m going to expect an apology.”
His lips curve. “And when you realize I’m right, I promise I won’t say ‘I told you so.’ At least not more than once or twice.”
I wrinkle my nose, cursing beneath my breath. “I snore? I really do?”
“Come on, woman. We find enough treasure and we can afford to buy you and Freya both jeweled collars and a CPAP machine for your cute little snoring habit.”
Groaning and laughing, I follow him up to the cave entrance. “Ugh, no. I don’t want a CPAP machine. I dated a guy who had one of those when I was younger. It’s like sleeping next to Darth Vader.”
“I think they’re quieter now. Technology advances pretty quickly with things like that. Speaking of technology…” Wes passes my headlamp over and slips his on. “Looks like the path dips down and things get dark right away. We’re going to want these.”
“Right.” I ease the lamp on, tightening the strap until it feels snug but not too snug. Then I pull in a deeper breath and ask, “Ready?”
“Ready.” Wes flicks his lamp on.
I do the same and start across the rocky terrain behind him, doing my best to ignore the anxiety prickling at the back of my neck. It’s just human instinct to feel anxious in tight, dark places. This is my ancient lizard brain trying to keep me safe from saber-toothed cats and dire wolves, nothing to logically be afraid of.
“Did you know that dire wolves were real?” I ask as we start down a steeper section of the path, bracing ourselves on the cool, but thankfully dry cave wall.
“Like from Game of Thrones?” Wes asks.
“Yeah. They were real. Lived in prehistoric times. In caves. They had a bite force like…thirty times more intense than a modern wolf’s. They could snap horses in half with one bite.”
Wes grunts. “Be careful. That flat rock there is loose.”
“Got it.”
“Well, that’s terrifying, but weren’t horses smaller in prehistoric times?”
I frown, racking my memory. “I’m not sure. Maybe?”
“I think they were. Horses were tiny, but sloths were enormous. As big as an elephant with long claws and the kind of teeth that make scientists think they could have been carnivores. Or at least omnivores open to eating a tasty human if they came across one taking a nap in the forest.”
“Aw, no, I hate that,” I say, my grip tightening on a sturdy rock sticking out of the wall as I follow Wes down a nearly three-foot drop. “Sloths are so cute. I don’t want to think of them murdering my ancestors.”