Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Of course the Royals—who no longer ruled us—had spread their seed around enough that having Royal Ringed Eyes wasn’t unheard of. But it wasn’t exactly common, either. I’d only ever met one other Were with gold in her eyes and she’d only had a few flecks around her pupils.
For a moment, Vivienne and I just stared at each other. She had taken off her makeup when she changed—I could see that. But she was just as beautiful without it—maybe even more beautiful than before.
“I, er, hope you like your cocoa sweet,” she said, smiling tentatively at me. “I think I might have put in too much sugar.”
“No such thing when you have a sweet tooth like mine,” I said quickly, coming into the kitchen.
It was huge, with decorative copper pots hanging from an overhead rack and vast stainless-steel appliances that could have kept enough food for a dozen people—not just one lonely widow. Vivienne looked small in the middle of the large room, which was big enough for four or five chefs to work in at once.
I thought of how she’d said that Wolverton Manor was “cold and lonely” even before my uncle died. Just seeing her here, all alone and looking so small in the vast kitchen, made me wish I could warm her up and ease her grief.
“Well, you’d better wait to judge it until after you’ve had a sip,” she told me. She poured the steaming cocoa from a copper bottomed saucepan into two ceramic mugs and raised her eyebrows at me. “Would you like marshmallows or whipped cream?”
“What the hell—give me both.” I came to sit on a bar stool at the large, marble-topped kitchen island across from her.
“You really must have a sweet tooth!” She gave me a tentative smile as she sprinkled some miniature marshmallows into my mug and added a squirt of whipped cream from a long silver can.
“I do. I love sweet things,” I said and took a sip.
The cocoa was perfect—sweet and hot and chocolaty. Just right for warming up after being drenched in a rainstorm. My trousers were still a little damp, and I was still carrying my coat and shirt around, since I hadn’t wanted to put them back on when I was all wet.
“Mmm—this is delicious, Vivienne. Thank you.” I said, smiling as I put the mug down.
“Oh, you have some whipped cream—right there.” She pointed at her nose.
I crossed my eyes, trying to see the tip of my own nose but my expression must have looked ridiculous, because she covered her mouth and giggled—a soft, musical sound I liked at once.
Hamming it up some, I attempted to lick off the cream with the tip of my tongue—but I couldn’t quite reach it.
“Here, you’ll never get it that way.” Vivienne was openly laughing now. “Let me.” She leaned across the kitchen island and dabbed at my nose with her finger. Then she popped it into her mouth and sucked, her eyes never leaving mine.
It was a playful gesture and not meant to be sensuous or sexual at all but holy fuck—thank the Moon Goddess I was sitting down because my hard-on had suddenly roared back to life with a vengeance! I don’t know why watching her suck her finger like that got to me but it sure as hell did. I was so hard I ached, even though I knew it was completely inappropriate.
She’s a Moon Widow! I reminded myself fiercely.
Who cares? She’s also fucking gorgeous, whispered a rebellious little voice in my head.
After a moment I realized we were just sitting there, staring at each other and it was my turn to say something before I started drooling like a fucking dog.
“Thank you.” I said, trying to sound normal. “You saved me.”
“From having a whipped cream nose?” She laughed. “I hardly think that’s a terrible fate.”
“It is, though,” I said seriously, shifting in my seat to try and make some room. “What if I walked into a pack meeting looking like that? No one would ever respect me ever again.”
But I seemed to have said the wrong thing, because Vivienne was suddenly serious.
“They only respect who they want to,” she said in a low voice. “I wouldn’t expect very much from them—they don’t take to outsiders very well.”
I frowned.
“You almost make it sound like you’re an outsider, Vivienne,” I said.
She nodded seriously.
“I am. Carter never really encouraged me to make friends with anyone when he first bought me as his wife and later, well, none of them wanted anything to do with me.”
“What? Why?” I shook my head in disbelief. “And did you say he bought you?”
She nodded.
“My parents needed the money. They’re both gone now,” she added, looking sad.
“But that…that’s fucked up,” I protested. “I mean, excuse my language but you can’t just buy a wife.”
“Maybe it would be considered unusual now, but twenty years ago, in this part of the country, it wasn’t so strange,” she said softly. “There are a lot of old ways here in the Appalachians…a lot of superstitions. Which is one reason my late husband’s Pack doesn’t like me.”