Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Things go from bad to worse as I'm kidnapped by strangers. These new people have four arms, long fluffy tails, and arching horns. They aren't like any aliens I've seen before, and they live in the warm caverns below the mountains. They should be the enemy. I should hate them for snatching me.
But the chief's son says I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen...
New I romance the chief's son until he frees me. What could possibly go wrong?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter
One
TIA
Stacy always says trouble comes in threes. Right now? There’s two heaps of trouble, and I’m waiting for a third to head my way.
Man, I wish I was back at Croatoan right now. I wish I’d never gotten on Ashtar’s back and made the long, bitterly cold flight back to Icehome. If I was back in Croatoan and having a bad day? Stacy would cluck over me like she was my mother (never mind that my elegant mother never paid a lick of attention to me), make me something delicious to eat, and let me tell her my troubles.
But I’m not at Croatoan. I’m not even at Icehome. I’m currently sitting in a completely fruit-less fruit cave with Tall Horn Clan and Ashtar. We’re here to try to pull a Sherlock Holmes and figure out the case of the missing fruit. Or at least the others are. I just want to be away from Icehome Beach, because if I’m there, I’m going to see I’rec and Flor.
I’rec and Flor, smiling at each other. I’rec and Flor, sharing kisses. I’rec and Flor, resonating and absolutely not hiding their lust for one another. I’rec looking at Flor in a way he never, ever looked at me.
It’s all awful. All of it. First the fruit cave. Now my sorta-boyfriend of the last four years (and my hope for resonance) resonated to someone else just before I returned.
Two troubles. Whatever the third one is that’s waiting to drop? It’s gonna be a fucking doozy, and I am not looking forward to it.
So even though I should be sleuthing in the cave, I’m sitting on one of the top ledges, away from everyone else, and working on my knitting. Knitting calms me. Knitting gives me something to do with my hands other than to wring them. I pull and knit, and it helps me sort my raw, painful thoughts.
At least, I would be if I had some time alone. Instead of going down by the pool with the others in Tall Horn, R’jaal lingers by my side. I’m surprised about this for a hot moment, but then I remember that he hasn’t resonated, and so he’s probably my husband-to-be.
And that makes me feel weird. Weird, weird, weird.
I pull and knit, pull and knit, giving the ball of yarn the occasional angry tug. It’s not his fault that I feel like a leftover cheese sandwich that got shuffled to the back of the fridge. R’jaal is sweet, but his mopey, yearning personality doesn’t match mine. I figured that out pretty quickly, but now I’m worried that I might be stuck with him.
“Perhaps…” R’jaal begins, his voice careful.
I look up from the stitch I just made, my mouth pressed into a tight line.
“…you should have remained behind,” he finishes.
Oh sure. Me, remain behind. I knit even faster, knowing that I’m pulling too tight and I’m probably going to have to redo this entire row later when my head’s on straight. But fuck it. It’s either knit or choke someone, so I knit. And then stop, because this was a hat for I’rec to match the scarf I’d made him, and now he’s got a freaking mate and everyone’s looking at me like I’m some sort of Jezebel because I kissed him before I even knew he had a mate!
“And what?” I spit out, furious. “Watch them kiss constantly? Watch them giggle over each other? Watch them be happy and in love and know that should have been me? No thank you. I’d rather be playing fruit cave detective with the rest of you.”
R’jaal just gives me another one of those sad-eyed looks. “If it was meant to be you, he would have resonated to you.”
Urge to kill rising. Not that I’d really kill someone. I’m just so…angry. Humiliated. I want to scream and cry. I want to rip my knitting to shreds (except I know how long it takes to make yarn, and no thank you). I want…I want…
I want to be away from here. From all of this.
It’s not that I even want I’rec. I mean, I kinda did because he’s a good kisser and he’s devoted. A little cranky, sure, but we got along well. It’s the humiliation of it all that burns. I stare down at my knitting. “Maybe if we had come back a day earlier it would have been me.”
“But it was not.”
No, I guess it wasn’t. The moment I saw how he looked at Flor, I knew it wasn’t me. It was never me. Even so…read the room. I shake my head, avoiding eye contact with him. “I’m trying to have a pity party and you’re not helping, R’jaal. Aren't you frustrated? Upset? How can you be so calm?”
“Because resonance decides. If someone was meant to be mine, my khui would let me know.” He pauses. “I am glad you came with us, though you should not have snuck away from the group.”