Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
It doesn’t feel wonderful. It feels terrifying. I should have found another way. I should have paid some fallen royal to marry me. She would have been reasonable. I wouldn’t have been desperate for some random royal’s blood and body. I wouldn’t have formed this weird connection to some sad-sack royal. It would have been a neat exchange of money for a convenient, no-emotions-involved marriage. I wouldn’t feel all twisted inside.
“I don’t know how wonderful it’s going to be. I’m worried that she won’t fit in.” It was the chief thing to recommend her in the beginning. I wanted to find a consort who would send my father running for the lawyers, but now I can’t stand the idea that my father won’t like her.
“I think you’ll be surprised,” Meg says. “I think she’s smart and adaptable. And, if you’re worried about your family accepting her, I wouldn’t. She’s different, but there’s a sweetness to Kaja that I think your family is going to find irresistible.”
The idea plays around in my brain. What if it could work? The thought of loving Kaja terrifies me, but the idea of not having her around causes my heart to knot. I’m a mess. I want her. I simply need to accept it.
I can’t help the smile that has my lips curling up. Meg is right. Kaja is sweet, and she tries so hard. Perhaps it will make up for her lack of proper manners. It can work.
My mother will view Kaja as a challenge, a sweet baby bird to take under her wing. Susan always appreciates the odd creatures of the planes. Despite her ridiculous adherence to parliamentary procedure in the boardroom, my sister is actually quite open-minded.
But the rest of society will be hard on my wife. The press will freak when they find out Kaja spends time on four legs.
How am I going to protect her?
“Don’t worry,” Meg says. “It really will work out. And it will work out for me and Beck and Ci, too. I have to have faith.”
I hope faith is all we need.
Chapter Nineteen
Kaja
I come awake slowly, brushing away the small bug that seems to be intent on biting me. My nose tickles. I wriggle it, trying to hold on to sleep. I am warm and happy. With Dante wrapped around my body, I sleep better than I have my whole life. My dreams are sweet. I do not wish to leave them.
But the small buzzing creature is insistent, and it seems that it has brought some friends.
I open my eyes and focus on the small thing that lands on my nose.
Bright blue wings flutter, and I’m shocked to find it has a face. My first instinct is to eat the little thing. It will not be much of a meal, but it might be tasty. And then I remember Dante’s words. I cannot eat things that talk back.
“Hello,” I say, hoping the bug will not talk back.
Its tiny hands fly up, and I swear that the thing looks grateful. Its mouth opens and a rush of beeps and light, tinkling words rush from its mouth.
No meal for Kaja.
I force myself to sit up. The creature takes flight briefly before landing on my knee. The winged insect once again begins speaking.
“Slowly, little one,” I say, remembering what Dante told me about the magic.
The insect shakes its head, words spewing from her mouth, but I am beginning to catch pieces of them now. “Save…family…bad Fae…eat.”
I look around. I am alone, but Dante’s shirt is folded beside me on the ground we slept on. I breathe deeply. I can smell Dante and Meg. They are not far away, and they seem to be speaking quietly.
“Please to help. My babies. The pixies will be grateful always.”
I cannot turn that request down. There is a family in need, a mother who could lose her pups. I nod at the blue creature, the pixie. “Where are your babies?”
The pixie takes off, her wings flapping faster than my eyes can track. She darts away from the camp. I think briefly about finding Dante, but if I do I will lose the pixie and the pixie babies could be eaten. I race to follow the flying pixie as she moves through the forest. In and out of trees and bushes, the pixie darts. I leap and feint around a bramble brush. I can feel my feet being cut, but I fear the pixie will not allow me to help if I show her my wolf.
Then she stops. There it is. It is soft at first. If I was not listening for it, I would think that it was only the play of the wind on the trees. A mewling cry, so soft. I move forward, keeping my steps light. I do not even worry about the fact that I am naked. Clothes are something I was only recently introduced to, and Dante seems to shed his often enough.