Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I probably would’ve been in shock about the whole thing, but after the last few months, I felt numb. I’d already done the whole holy-shit-you’re-a-Vampire’s-mate thing with Charlie. That had been a shock. Then we’d done the whole someone-is-out-to-get-Vampires-and-their-mates thing. That was both shocking and terrifying. Then we’d gone through Zeke leaving and the aftermath—more terror. Realizing that he wasn’t coming back—terror and numbness. Sneaking our way through Europe and back into the United States—numbness and determination. And finally meeting Zeke’s brothers.
The sustained trauma and strain had made me feel like I’d lost my ability to feel almost anything.
Ambrose had rented us adjoining rooms for the night, and I was glad that I could put some distance between us, but almost immediately after I’d closed and locked the door between the rooms, I started to feel like garbage. It was almost the same sensation as I’d had in the car when we weren’t touching, but so much worse.
I didn’t remember Charlie having this kind of reaction to Zeke. Though, the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that once Charlie and Zeke had met, they’d been inseparable. They’d gotten their own room the first night and every night after until Zeke had gone back to his unit.
I groaned as nausea rolled through my belly.
Maybe it wasn’t the mating heat or whatever. Maybe I’d gotten food poisoning or something. That seemed more logical. Why would nature make someone feel like they were going to vomit their guts out or poop themselves when they found their mate? It seemed like that would put a serious damper on any romance.
Kneeling on the bed, I tucked my arms tight against my chest and curled over my thighs until my forehead pressed against the comforter. I would’ve given anything to be able to fall asleep. Miserable, I took deliberate deep breaths and blew them out through pursed lips. It didn’t help, but it at least gave me something to focus on while I sweated through my shirt.
By the time Charlie came out of the bathroom in a fresh set of clothes and his hair neatly combed, I was a groaning mess.
“What the hell is wrong?” he asked urgently as he hurried toward the bed. “Luce?”
“I feel like crap,” I complained.
My skin felt too tight to hold everything in, like at any moment it was going to burst and splatter my insides all over the walls.
I closed my eyes and leaned into the pressure of his cool palm as he checked my head for a fever.
“Shit,” he muttered. He turned toward the adjoining door, then back toward the bathroom, then toward the adjoining door again, before spinning toward the bathroom and running inside. He came back seconds later with a cold washcloth. “This should help a little.”
“Feels good,” I mumbled as he laid it over the back of my neck. “Just leave me. Save yourself.”
“So dramatic,” he joked, brushing my hair out of my face.
“I’m never eating at a drive-thru again.”
“You’re spoiled after all that good food we had in Europe,” he said softly, still smoothing his hand over my hair.
“Or someone shit and didn’t wash their hands before assembling my taco,” I panted.
“Gross.”
“Very,” I agreed.
I closed my eyes and groaned as a new wave of heat ran from my scalp to my toes, leaving me lightheaded. I was so busy trying to breathe my way through it that I didn’t notice that Charlie had stopped rubbing my head and had crossed over to the door between our room and Ambrose’s room.
“Lucy’s sick as a dog,” Charlie said.
My eyes shot open, and I lifted my heavy head to see him standing in the open doorway.
“We need some kind of fever reducer and probably anti-nausea medicine.”
“Fuck,” Ambrose said from the other room.
Then he was there in the doorway and striding toward me. I wanted to glare at him or swipe my hand over my neck or something to stop him, but I was too weary to do anything as he came over and sat on the side of the bed. The moment he set his hand on my back, my entire body shuddered, and my stomach stopped cramping entirely.
“Give it a moment,” he told me quietly, running his hand lightly up and down my spine.
His hair was a mess.
“What happened to you?” I rasped, feeling my body relax more and more with each sweep of his palm.
“Same thing that happened to you, I’d imagine,” he replied softly.
I grimaced. I could feel the hand on my back everywhere as my muscles started loosening, one by one.
“Oh,” Charlie said from behind Ambrose, his voice trembling. “Oh.”
Remorse filled Ambrose’s eyes as a lump formed in the base of my throat. I could barely swallow, much less say something that would make the whole situation less terrible for my brother.