Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
The new nest was the finest she’d ever built.
Chapter 7
These sensations, inside and out, were entirely new. Even the pitch of her purr was on a scale Wren couldn’t recall having producing before. Lush and indulgent, it hummed from her chest while she let herself do something as silly as burrow.
As if she were happy—safe, and separated from the nightmare of her life.
Cocooned in snowy white cotton, weighted down with blankets stuffed with fluff, she allowed herself a moment of bliss.
In a nest.
A perfect nest made from wonderful things.
Yet the precious moment ended when a warm hand reached under impeccably arranged covers to seize her ankle.
Purr stuttering to a complete stop, Wren braced, found her heart beat far too fast, and forced out a different purr. The expected purr.
“It’s rude not to invite me in, mouse.” The male teased. “And what happens to bad girls?”
They get fucked. Hard. Without the growl or sweet lies.
They get shown that they like it.
Reminded they were made to be a whore.
Yet, it was the little moments, Wren reminded herself. The little moments hidden within the bad one had to treasure. And even though it had been short-lived, she had enjoyed her fresh nest while it had really been hers.
Would dream of it. Hold it in her mind just as it was now.
Before they spoiled it.
Pulling her leg from Caspian’s grip, Wren maneuvered like a fish in water. The bedding above her peaked as she flipped. Where his hand waited, her face appeared.
A little mouse peeking out of her hole.
Because she could not bring herself to reach for him, Wren looked to his fingers. Veined and rough, she set her teeth to a knuckle and bit down hard enough to sting. Leading a chuckling monster in as if carrying a kitten in her teeth, Wren brought Caspian into a sacred Omega space.
It seemed the male would pretend respect. He didn’t immediately make a grab for her breasts or shove his thick fingers in her cunt. Instead he settled exactly where he should.
He rested, pulling her weight into the nook at his side.
Looking down at the intruder, blankets tented by her head, she blinked.
The man just lay there; arm behind his head, eyes closed.
A moment later, it seemed he snored.
Slinking from his chest, Wren went back to her secret preening, her rolling about, and her sighs—finding that the scent of an Alpha had only enhanced the comfort found in soft sheets.
Even if the Alpha was Caspian.
Her natural purr returned, there was even a soft smile playing at her lips with so much clean slipping against her skin.
Until he pounced with a growl… and she squealed.
And laughed.
An honest-to-God laugh that rode the high of her surprise.
Dedicated male lips went to the mark on her neck, stubble scraping delicate skin as he lavished her with unexpected, tender attention. When he nipped, and played, pressing her down into a mattress that did not reek of decades of sex. When he smiled back where no one could possibly see, a twist knotted in the bond. Right in her guts.
A belly flip.
One that fell abruptly away when the First Alpha lost his grin. “It’s time for Alec’s punishment.”
Reality smashed her pretend world to bits.
She was going to be sick.
Moving her mouth as if words might come out, she so wanted to ask if her boy could be spared.
Had she not played house well? Did she not allow them all to screw with their new toy in whatever way they saw fit?
“A whipping.” Touching his nose to hers, Caspian purred. “He can keep his hand. This time.”
Swallowing, she nodded as if promising there would never be another time.
“And you will stand before my men, and watch. At my side.” Voice dropping in tone and thickening with warning, he added. “A loyal, marked Omega.”
Cold, teeth rattling, Wren nodded again.
“Don’t disappoint me.” That final warning given, Caspian threw back the covers to show that both Kieran and Toby stood near enough to grab and pin her down. And both of them wore unyielding expressions, measured her, ready to spar.
“Come.” In his hands, Toby held clothing. A luxury they had denied her since dragging her chained from a cage. “We don’t have much time.”
***
The dress was white, bridal. Completely inappropriate for the grungy Waterworks or the disgusting crowds gathered within. Already the dragging hem had grown saturated, lace catching on old cement and sodden from the pooling water caught in uneven slabs. It clung to her figure.
A shroud that left her bitten arms bare to the cold.
Still she sweated.
Nerves gnawing at her guts, banked by a stalwart Caspian and an unsmiling Kieran, mist rained down on her head.
Damp hair began to curl into itself, to stick to her skin.
Several levels below, Toby, wielding a bullwhip, had her boy chained to a wall for all the Syndicate to see.