Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Out of sight, Lucia shouted, “You want to stink of a sewer and show us all once again how lacking you are, I will not be blamed for it. Dios mio, these dresses are ghastly! Is this what I will be expected to wear here? Split skirts? Never! How much more of a burden could you be? We came here for the best life might offer, and you are the reason we cannot enjoy it.” As if she did not care to be overheard, the woman muttered, “The first time I am allowed to leave my apartments in days and this is all I’m afforded. And the clothes, I have been ordered to cover my body from neck to toes, thanks to your preferences in fashion. My entire mating wardrobe is forbidden.”
Ignoring the woman’s ramblings, Brenya slipped from damp sheets and padded to the window. No hand reached out to test the door. No thoughts of taking the golden fork and fleeing for her freedom arrived. Her attention was on the rising moon; the way light cast from its beautiful face was slightly bent by the shape of the Dome.
It led an eerie light over a city that did not glitter as it should have in the dark.
Because she had been caught…
Lockdown had been engaged.
There would be barriers bolted into place that could not be opened with a golden fork and knife.
The Commodore had anticipated she would run, but Annette had been right. There was nowhere to run.
Not through the city she loved. Not to sandy beaches she’d flown over on her ill-fated way to Thólos. Not to the ruins of the once great Paris.
The Alpha was hooked into her chest, raging like a roaring lion. The entirety of the city had been shut down.
Annette’s child was probably being smothered in that moment.
It was over.
Lucia returned, beautiful and lithe, her arms full of fresh frothy white material, and watching her reflection in the window, Brenya couldn’t find it in her to hate the female. The foreign Omega had said it herself—she had come here for the best life. Being mated to Ancil would be the worst.
Though Lucia clearly didn’t understand that yet.
“Did he tell you he will murder his son? Annette’s life will be next.”
Compunction soured an angry expression to one of discomfiture. “No. But I will not lie and pretend that such an outcome has not occurred to me. The customs and laws regarding Omegas in this Dome are centuries behind the progress of Greth. I cannot be expected to change them overnight, especially when our Commmodorina does nothing with her influence. You have done nothing for any of us—your Omega guests locked away for these past weeks? We have not been able to even speak with one another. But, why should you concern yourself with your kind? You lay in filth and refuse to wash yourself.”
There was only one thing Brenya might offer. “I will request that Jacques send you my honey.”
Confused, Lucia cocked her head. “What does that even mean?”
Brenya turned away from the view. “It means I can do nothing for you.”
“You could take a bath.”
She could. Brenya could do this one and only thing for the woman who had inadvertently led to the destruction of two innocents. “It will be the only thing I ever do for you, Lucia.”
“Fair enough.” Setting the fresh gown on a nearby divan, Lucia tossed her sheet of shining black hair. “And know this. At no time did I suggest we be friends.”
“That is good. The Commodore has tortured all my friends.”
It was as if the female was finally starting to understand. Painted lips parted as if she might speak, but only silence grew between them. Turning from the view of a city she loved, Brenya went to the lavatory and stepped down into the steaming tub.
The water was warm, a comfort. The company was anything but.
18
Despite her acerbic jabs, Lucia had taken great pains in assuring Brenya was scrubbed clean, patted dry with soft towels, her hair wrung out and dried with a moisture transfer unit. It was then combed into order.
Chastising Brenya for failing to take care of her mottled skin, the Omega went so far as to dig through Jacques' cabinets in search of bandages and unguent.
Chin pinched in between the woman’s pointed, lacquered nails, Brenya allowed Lucia to turn her head and expose the wound that refused to heal.
One glance, and the foreigner said, “This is infected.”
Brenya didn’t care and said as much.
A light smack came to her cheek, Lucia turning up her nose. “You should care. You will be judged on this mark for the rest of your life. It will be captured in paintings and projections. Talked about by an entire civilization throughout their history, and there is already the unfortunate issue of your face.”