Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Wow. My dead dad really has a lot to answer for in the way he raised me, I guess.
Freya and Mila don’t seem to have the same psychological quirk. Maybe it’s genetic. Or maybe… I don’t know. What’s the point of taking my brain apart here and now when some creature might be taking it apart literally very soon.
“Where do you think Drako went?”
“To shit himself, probably,” Thor says bluntly.
The answer catches me off guard, and I laugh.
“There you go!” Thor’s so pleased with himself. His handsome face spreads wide in a lovely grin.
“I guess running can do that to you,” I say.
There’s not much in the way of dignity in the wild. At home there was plumbing and whatnot. Here it’s just doing things the same way animals do them.
Just as we’re theorizing what he’s up to, Drako returns. He looks at us with handsomely narrowed eyes.
“What are the two of you laughing about? Are you conspiring against me?”
“And lose our experienced guide who led us directly into a field of thousands of animals any one of which could have killed us all? No. Of course not. We wouldn’t dare. We depend on you for our survival,” I say.
Drako does not like the joke.
“Do I need to teach you respect?” He walks over to me, all tall, dark, handsome, and stern.
“Yes, please,” I grin, absolutely unrepentant.
Thor has moved away from me, strategically. He’s literally going to let me start some shit just to improve my mood. This cannot be a healthy kind of approach, but we might be past concerns about health.
“What is wrong with her?” He turns and asks Thor the question, as if Thor might have an answer.
Thor shrugs.
“Address me when I’m talking to you,” I say. “That’s what’s polite.”
Drako’s dark brows rise at me. “Have you absolutely lost your mind?”
“You didn’t exactly do a good job of leading,” I tell him. “So I’ve decided to be the leader. Thor has already agreed to follow. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Drako pauses for a moment.
“Little girl,” he says, when he regains his power of speech. “You are about to be whipped and fucked to within an inch of your life. Do you want to make an apology before I start?”
I glance over at Thor, then back at Drako.
“Sure,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“Good…”
“I’m sorry you suck at leading,” I say. “I mean you got your entire landing party killed, and today we could have all died as well. Following you is practically a suicide wish.”
The second I say it, I know I’ve gone too far.
Ah, fuck. I never knew what it looked like to hurt a dangerous psychopath’s feelings. Except he’s not a psychopath, because he has feelings, and not rage.
“Perhaps you are correct,” Drako says grimly. “But you do not have any other options, unless you want to make your own way.”
I feel sick to my stomach. I hate hurting people’s feelings like this. Sometimes I try to hurt them on purpose, but that is very different. That’s intentional, and feels good. What doesn’t feel good is accidentally by mistake fucking someone up. I look over at Thor in the hopes that he can help. He’s more diplomatic than I am.
“She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She was trying to get her ass whipped,” Thor says. “You were the one who noticed we were on the horde. We could have just kept walking until one of them woke up and then we’d have been snapped up. And I’ve got a pack full of food that I’m going to cook up right now.”
“I’ll build a fire,” I say.
I scurry away to get dry leaves and sticks for kindling. I am glad for the task. I don’t even want to look at Drako right now. Goddamn it, what the fuck is an evil Vikar jarl doing being sensitive about his leadership skills?
I set the fire up and then I help Thor prepare the food.
“I need to speak to her,” Drako says to him. He doesn’t ask to talk to me. He tells Thor that he’s taking me. Because to Drako, I’m a possession they swap between them. Fucker.
“Sure,” Thor says.
“Sure? What do you mean sure?” I make scandalized sounds that don’t have nearly the impact they should have.
“C’mere,” Drako says, pulling me away by the collar. The day is starting to turn to the golden twilight hour. We stand a little bit away from camp, surrounded by bushes and such. It’s not exactly private, but it’s more private than it would otherwise be.
“If you had said something like that to me when I was jarl, I would have whipped you until you cried,” he says. “The disrespect would not have been tolerated. You would have felt the pain of my punishment for days. Is that what you want?”