Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Cassie knew how to armor herself against coldness…but gentleness was dangerous.
Gentleness snuck in under her armor and found all the bruised, lonely places she was trying so hard not to look at. It made her want to lean into the Blood Kindred’s touch. It made her want to believe things she had no business believing—like maybe she wasn’t alone…maybe she wasn’t completely screwed…maybe she hadn’t just gone from one bad marriage to another and then straight into a zombie apocalypse where she was probably going to die or turn into a flesh-eating monster.
And then there was Ravik. She couldn’t forget about the big Beast Kindred, who seemed to be the polar opposite of his friend.
She could still feel his arms around her—huge and hard and impossibly strong. Could still feel the heat of his big body pressing against her naked skin… the rough black leather of his vest against her bare breasts…the steady furnace warmth of him surrounding her as though he could simply burn the cold away by holding her tightly enough.
It had been embarrassing when he hugged her—mortifying, actually. She had been naked as the day she was born and pressed up against a seven-foot-tall Beast Kindred who thought she was his mate and kept sniffing her like she was the best thing he’d ever smelled.
But it had also been…nice.
Cassie frowned as she opened another cupboard in the small but surprisingly well-equipped kitchen area and stared blindly at the contents inside.
Nice? Was she insane? Had the Hunger Virus already gotten into her brain and started nibbling on the parts that controlled common sense?
Maybe. Because only a crazy woman would admit—even to herself—that there had been something almost unbearably comforting about being held by Ravik. He was so big…so warm…so solid and alive. Everything about him was hot breath and hard muscle and protective strength, which was such a sharp contrast to Sskarth that thinking about it made Cassie’s throat tighten unexpectedly.
Sskarth had always been cold. Cold hands. Cold scales. Cold mouth.
And don’t forget—cold heart, the evil bastard, she thought resentfully.
Sleeping beside him had been like curling up next to a decorative reptile statue someone had left in an air-conditioned room. His skin—or scales, rather—had never warmed under her touch. His arms had never felt like shelter. Even when he had held her in the beginning, back when he’d still been fascinated by her pale, scaleless skin and the “silk” that grew from her head, his embrace had never felt soft or comforting.
Being with the lizard-man had felt like being examined…possessed. And when his status-hungry friends came around—displayed like an expensive piece of art he’d bought to make others jealous.
And kissing him had been the worst.
Cassie made a face as she remembered, while she pulled a squat green canister from the cupboard, mostly because she needed something to do with her hands.
The Visskous didn’t really kiss—not the way humans did. Sskarth had no lips to speak of—just a narrow, lipless mouth and that forked tongue that was always flickering out to taste the air.
At first, she’d thought it was exotic—sensual, even. He had told her he was tasting her scent because she was so desirable and unusual to him, and lonely, stupid Cassie had believed it was romantic.
Now she knew better.
Now she knew it was just another way of assessing her. Sampling her. Deciding whether she was pleasing or inconvenient or too hot or too hormonally unstable or not useful enough to keep.
She wondered how long it had been since a warm-blooded man had really held her like Ravik had. It must have been years—not since before her marriage with Mitch fell apart.
The thought sat in the middle of her chest like a stone and she felt her eyes stinging again.
“Stop it,” she muttered to herself, putting the green canister on the counter with more force than necessary. “You are not going to stand here mooning over two alien warriors while you’re infected with zombie cooties and trapped in an underground bunker. Get a grip, Cassie.”
Still, she couldn’t help glancing toward the doorway of the kitchen area as though Ravik might suddenly appear there, filling the entire frame with his broad shoulders and wild golden eyes. Because apparently the huge, half-infected Beast Kindred had decided she was his mate.
That was another thought she didn’t have time to deal with right now. It was hovering somewhere in the back of her mind, though, right beside the knowledge that she might have to sleep in Ravik’s arms tonight.
Cassie was not thinking about that right now. Nope—not at all.
She was cooking supper. That was what she was doing. She was going to make something edible from whatever strange alien pantry staples the bunker had to offer, because no matter how bad things got, people still needed to eat. Even during a zombie apocalypse. Especially during a zombie apocalypse, probably.