Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I don’t want to sound hateful or judgmental—he looked like a nice old GrandSire and there’s nothing wrong with that. But I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as he looked me up and down with a lustful gaze that was anything but grandfatherly.
When the old male saw Lyrah, he raised a hand and half-stood to greet her.
“Grr. Malofice—there you are!” my stepmother trilled. Taking me by the arm, she hurried me over to the table where he was sitting.
“Grrsa. Lyrah, my dear. It’s so very good to see you again.” He looked at me, giving me that same, greedy look that made my skin crawl. “And this must be your lovely daughter—the one you say is looking for a husband.”
I knew then and there that my fate was sealed. But I was determined not to go down without a fight.
“I’m not looking for a husband,” I said bluntly. “I’m waiting for my Fated Mate—the one She of the Four Faces set aside just for me.”
“Oh Jessina, don’t be ridiculous!” Lyrah scoffed. “Nobody waits for their Fated Mate anymore—it’s nothing but a nursery story.”
“Your mother is right, a lovely young girl like you mustn’t wait until she’s old and withered hoping for a fairytale to come true,” the male called Grr. Malofice said, laughing jovially.
He was one to talk about being “old and withered” but I didn’t say that.
“My older brother just claimed his Fated Mate,” I said. “They have a beautiful Binding Ceremony planned.”
“Well, it sounds like someone wants their big day to be special,” Grr. Malofice said, smiling broadly in a way that showed his yellowed teeth. They nearly matched the color of his withered horns. “Please—won’t the two of you have a seat?” he asked, making a sweeping gesture to the two chairs across from his.
“We’d love to.” Lyrah shot me a murderous look as we got settled. Clearly she wanted me to sit still and shut up—but I wasn’t prepared to do that.
“So, your mother tells me—” Grr. Malofice began.
“Lyrah is my stepmother,” I interrupted, correcting him. “And once again I want to be clear—I’m not looking for a husband or to enter into a Binding of any kind.”
I was trying to nip the whole business in the bud, but it seemed that matters had already progressed beyond that point.
“That’s all right, young lady,” Grr. Malofice said pleasantly. “It doesn’t matter if you’re looking for a husband or not because your Sire has decided that you are. And it just so happens that I am looking for a wife.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said blankly.
“It means your father has put me in charge of finding you the perfect husband and as you can see, I have.” Lyrah smiled brightly at me. “Jessina, meet your future lord and husband.” And she nodded proudly at Grr. Malofice.
“No,” I said flatly, looking at the old man across from me. “You’re joking.”
“I would never joke about such an important subject as your future happiness, dear daughter.” Lyrah gave me a poisonous smile, her green eyes snapping.
“You’re a lovely young lady and I’m sure we can make each other very happy.” Grr. Malofice leered at me again, his eyes running up and down my body and lingering on my breasts. They may not be the biggest, but they’re perky and I was currently wishing that I’d worn something that covered them better than the thin Trixian silk top I had on which showed the points of my nipples.
“I very much doubt that’s true,” I said coldly, folding my arms over my chest to hide myself.
“I don’t.” He gave me a self-satisfied grin—clearly he thought he had me in the bag—bought and paid for—and there was nothing I could do about it. “Now, don’t fret—I’m prepared to be extremely generous with your allowance, my dear. You’ll be able to buy anything your pretty little heart desires to wear—your closet will be stuffed with pretty little dresses.”
While down below I’d be stuffed with…I didn’t want to think about that.
“Stepmother dear,” I said to Lyrah through gritted teeth. “I feel the need to visit the ladies room. Would you please come with me?”
Lyrah gave me a nasty look.
“Not now, Jessina. You need to get to know your husband-to-be.”
“Yes, now,” I said and rose from the table. “I’m going—you can come with me or not,” I added and walked out of the dining room.
“Jessina, what do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at me, as we entered the elaborately decorated ladies room together. The wallpaper was made of living velvet that flowed in endless pink and gold patterns and there was a row of gold-framed, floor-to-ceiling mirrors on one wall.
I studied myself in one of the mirrors, avoiding my stepmother’s furious gaze.
I’m only half Brute myself. My mother was Yerbishian, so instead of the pearly grey skin tones of most of the people around me, my skin is a creamy brown. My eyes, though, show my father’s side of my heritage. They’re a clear, pale amber with no other color at all. I’m tall for a woman and I have what you might call a “boyish figure” all except for my breasts, which are medium-sized and firm. My hair is long and thick and black—it falls to the middle of my back.