Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 54783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
It didn’t help.
How did they know it was going to be okay? Were they also wives of the Destroyer? Did he have some kind of harem of females he stashed away who had to go through this ritual before he took them to his furs?
That very thought had this sour feeling moving through me.
They glanced at each other and then at me before gesturing for me to come forward. I found myself in front of them before I realized I’d even moved. The blonde took my belongings from me and set them aside. She moved behind me and started unlacing my top as the redhead moved forward and tipped my head up with her finger under my chin.
She searched my face before making a small noise in the back of her throat. “I can see why he wanted you as his,” she murmured and then turned before I could say anything.
I didn’t know how to take her words, how to process or feel about them. I licked my lips again just as my top was removed. Everything was done with such deft and sure motions that I wasn’t even aware of my skirting being removed until I felt the cool breeze along my transparent shift.
I placed my arms around my chest, the chilled air causing my nipples to pucker up. “Are you… are you his wives too?” I didn’t know why I asked, because I truly didn’t want to know. It would make the situation far worse to know he had females at his beck and call and I was just another one amongst the horde.
The redhead’s eyes widened, and she looked shocked before shaking her head frantically. “No. Absolutely not. King Fenrir takes no females to his furs. He has no wives.”
The blonde moved in front of me to stand beside the other woman. “You are the first and only female that we know of who he’s ever wanted. We’ve never seen him with another woman.”
Now it was my turn to feel my eyes widen in shock. Surely that couldn’t be the truth. A male like him, so masculine and virile, never taking a wife? Never taking a woman?
“What are your names?” The words were whispered as if I was almost afraid to ask. But I wanted some kind of connection with these women, wanted to feel like I wasn’t alone, even though I knew I truly was.
“Lila,” the blonde said and inclined her head.
The redhead murmured, “Greta.”
And then we were submerged into silence as they went about taking my shift off, the chilled air on my now-nude body causing goose bumps to form along my arms and legs. I slid a hand down and covered my mound, my other forearm covering my breasts. But they didn’t comment about it. They didn’t judge me or scold me for hiding myself. It was as if they knew I’d never been this bare in front of anyone.
“Is all of this necessary?” I asked, but they said nothing, just led me over to the pool, gesturing for me to get in.
I stepped in, not sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the pleasantly hot water that I was now submerged in. Lila started pouring dried flowers and salts into the water, and Greta did the same with different oils. The scents rose up and teased my senses.
Once I was at one edge and shoulder-deep in the water, I sat on one of the stone ledges built within the circular pool and waited to see what was next.
“Yes, very necessary. King Fenrir requested this,” one of the women finally answered me. And then they went back to gathering their supplies, telling me that was the end of the subject. It was very clear this was what he wanted so this was what we were going to do.
Again, the rational part of my brain told me I needed to fight this, to not be so meek and gentle with the situation. But the other part of me that was relaxing in this hot water with the incredible scents surrounding me and my skin feeling warm and silky, told me to just enjoy it, because whatever happened after this might not be as pleasant.
The next events happened in a flurry of motion. Greta washed my hair with oils and soaps, the lather sweet but floral. When my dark locks were washed and rinsed, I was gestured to come out of the pool.
Once I was out, I was lathered and rubbed down with oils and lotions, my skin feeling sensitive and tingling from their ministrations and the concoctions they used. I assumed that was it, but then I was led over to a waist-high platform, and Lila gestured for me to get on.
Curious about what the next sequence of events were, I sat down, but Greta gently gripped my shoulders and pulled me back so I was lying flat. I suddenly felt like a virgin sacrifice on an altar and once again covered my mound with one hand and my breasts with my other arm, the chill in the air seeming even more prominent.