Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I shrug. “One?”
“Right. One. Get in the van.”
“I’m not getting in the fucking van. You get in the fucking van and fuck off.”
Kirin, the pretty blond, is smirking broadly. I think he likes my sass. Rafe, meanwhile, is standing with his arms folded over his chest, his muscles bulging in the way men’s muscles do when they stand like that. They’re all dressed head to toe in tactical black, and it suits all of them.
“Put her in the damn van,” Einar sighs.
I’m a good fighter, but even I can’t kick three people in the face at the same time. Rafe and Kirin snatch me up and put me in the back of the van, giving me no choice or chance to escape. Rafe stays in the back with me, holding me by the back of my shirt like a wayward kitten. Einar gets in with us, while Kirin goes to the front to drive.
“What the hell do you guys want with me? You want to fuck a wolf girl, is that it?”
“Be quiet,” Einar growls at me. He’s sitting opposite me on a bench type seat, while Rafe keeps me firmly in his grasp, his hand moving from my shirt to the back of my neck. A little thrill runs through me as I feel his fingers on my bare skin, strong, confident, and controlling.
“No. Fuck you.”
“You’re special,” Rafe says. “You’re also a rude little pain in the ass, but that usually comes with the territory of being a bitch.”
“I’m going to pretend you meant that in the female wolf sense,” I growl.
“Settle down,” Einar says. “The second we saw who, or rather, what you really are, we knew you needed us…”
“I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody,” I interrupt.
“Can you try not to backtalk for a minute so I can explain why we came for you? What’s happening to you… what is going to happen to you, is wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re at the academy, right?”
“Yeah.”
Einar nods. “You don’t remember me, because you were too young. But I was there when you first came. The director pretended you were someone’s brother’s kid, an orphan just staying for a while. The faculty covered for you. You played in the staff room.”
I have a weird feeling as he tells me this stuff, remembering a childhood that I don’t really remember anymore because nobody remembers that far back.
“I thought you’d have been sent to the palace at the usual age. But they’ve kept you,” he says. “What they’re doing is wrong.”
“What do you mean, what they’re doing to me? They looked after me. Trained me. They’re going to make me one of the King’s Guard one day.” I know the last part is a lie, but I say it anyway.
“You’re being kept for breeding.”
“Bullshit.”
“Why do you think you get to sneak out so much? Why do you think you’re indulged in ways others aren’t?”
“Because I’m good at everything, because I’ve been trained since I could walk and talk. Most of them are ten years behind me, at least. Also, the trainers have known me forever. I’m not just some recruit. I’m more like… family.”
“You don’t know what family is,” Einar says.
I scowl at him furiously. I hate it when people say things like that—and they’re always saying things like that. A lot of the other cadets have been curious about me over the years. They ask me about what happened to my parents, and I don’t really know.
Sometimes they talk about their families, and I feel jealous. I don’t know what it’s like to have a mom or a dad, or siblings that I live with. It sounds weird, to be honest. Sounds kind of stifling. I can’t imagine having two adults looking out for me all the time, telling me what to do, probably having some say in how I dress, maybe even buying me clothes. Gross. I bet my mom would have, like, brushed my hair and things. Or read me bedtime stories. How stupid is that? I know how to read stories to myself.
Anyway, that’s what makes me kick Einar in the face for a second time. The man just keeps putting himself in foot range. At this point, it’s basically his fault.
“Restrain her before I do something I regret,” he snarls, holding his jaw. I got a good shot in that time. I’m impressed that he wasn’t knocked out. This man can take a thrashing.
“What are you going to do? Beat me up? Yeah. You’d better have me restrained by two other men. You could never take me on your own. I’d run you through with my sword and bite your fucking head off.”
“Let her calm down,” Rafe says. “We’re all wound up.”
“She’s feral,” the pretty boy replies. He doesn’t say it like it is a good thing.