Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
As righteous fury sparked, Micah curved his arm, conforming it to the shape of her hips. For the human to shatter the fragile bonds of trust with both Vee and his wife, the one he was born to protect... It was unconscionable.
Are you any better?
He didn’t know, and the uncertainty caused guilt to unfurl. Micah had watched his second betray his wife again and again and again, and he’d said nothing. How many broken hearts had Norok left in his wake? Hearts that belonged to his people. Those looking to Micah for safeguarding. On the other hand, how could he blame Norok for his actions when Micah himself treated his wife no better than a prisoner?
His blood flashed cold. “How did you punish the fool for his betrayal?”
“I made an example of him,” she said with all kinds of satisfaction.
Just as she will make an example of me? The moisture in his mouth dried. “What you did to Kaysar’s parents was not the same, Vee. It was accidental. You owe the Unhinged One nothing.” And that was the truth.
She went still for a long while, then extracted from him and glided to her feet. Heading for the cenote, hips swaying, she rasped, “All right. I’m done sharing. I’m taking a bath.” She dropped her gown and stepped into the warm bubbling water, wearing only the collar. “Try to resist. If you can.”
The sight of her soft, lush curves—mine for the taking—nearly proved to be his undoing. But he gripped the blanket and stared up at the glittering ceiling above him. Anywhere but Vee, bathing in the pool. Naked.
Deep breath in, out. The first and only rule of taming: never be the first to break.
Micah would prove the depths of his strength or he would die trying.
CHAPTER TWENTY
OH! HUSBANDS WERE beyond frustrating. And sexy. Very, very, very sexy. Annoyingly so!
After sharing intimate parts of her life, Viori expected Micah to share intimate parts of his. An equal exchange. Instead, he went quiet and hands-off. For three days! Had she ruined everything, as always?
They spent the time traveling through Grimm Forest on foot and camping, seemingly the sole survivors of some cataclysmic, realm-destroying event. Well, that and stare at each other, all while the most intoxicating heat simmered between them.
The guy hungered for her; she had zero doubts about that. Or maybe one doubt. Possibly ten. No more than thirty. It was just, he never touched her anymore. Never kissed her or embraced her through the too-long nights. Never did more than grunt at her.
Pride said, You mustn’t be the one to initiate contact. He must. But more and more she suspected pride was a buffoon. She wanted what she wanted—him—and she wanted it now.
She did everything in her power to tempt him. Ask for help dressing and undressing. “Accidentally” bump into him. Complain about aching muscles.
He never wavered in his resolve. He always resisted.
Today, he’d clearly planned to take her torment to the next level, and Viori could only swallow her whimpers. She sat nearby, her wrists bound behind her—because yes, she continued to try to escape, just to provoke a response from him—watching as he chopped wood. Shirtless. Amid a beam of golden sunlight, he placed the logs on the stump, one after the other, then picked up his axe and swung. Chop.
Her breath caught. The way his muscles strained and flexed...
He swung again, and her heart leaped. Chop. She shifted, too agitated to be still. Chop.
She licked her lips as sweat glistened on his scars. Who knew the simple act of slicing through tree bark could be so utterly...delicious? She might demand he cut wood every minute of every day for the rest of his life and even after he died, only stopping to throw her to the ground and ravish her senseless at least once an hour.
As if he sensed her growing arousal, he glanced her way. The smolder in his amber eyes nearly proved to be her undoing.
Time to make him stop this illicit act. “We have enough wood for an army, Micah. Why continue?” Put me out of my misery!
“This isn’t for us,” he groused, “but the family trekking behind us.” Well, well. He’d done more than grunt.
Wait. A family trekked behind them? And she hadn’t sensed it? What was wrong with her? “Do you know this family?”
“No.” He stacked the pieces into a pile.
“Then why aid them? They won’t thank you for it.”
“I told you. I don’t need thanks, but they do need aid.” He gathered their gear and hoisted her to her feet. “Let’s go.” He gripped the rope between her wrists and dragged her through the woods once again.
She stumbled behind him, too flabbergasted to respond. He’d spent hours doing manual labor to help total strangers? Something no one had ever done for the de Aoibheall siblings after their parents had died. Or before. Something they had desperately needed at times.