Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“Quick—get us unstuck. I have to get downstairs!”
Korrath’s thought reached her immediately, calm and steady.
“You are lucky I have control of my knot. Not every Monstrum can say the same. Be still a moment and let me release you.”
She did as he asked, biting down on the urge to twist or check in the mirror again. A second later, she felt him tense and then, with a small, incredible sliding sensation, the pressure eased and he slipped free.
There was a warm, wet rush that left a dark stain on the green coverlet—a reminder that, unfortunately, her own bed didn’t have the absorbent properties of his back on the Monstrum Mother Ship.
Miranda pressed a trembling palm to the spot, feeling faintly ridiculous and gloriously alive at the same time. Korrath had filled her—he had Claimed her. And now they were Bonded for life.
The thought both horrified and thrilled her.
“Quick,” she breathed to him, her voice a harsh whisper. “Help me—please.”
“Of course, my lovely one.”
He was already moving, sweeping up a towel she’d left on the other side of the bed and offering it to her.
“It’s all right, my lovely one,” he murmured as he watched her clean herself. “You should be well now—your Second Heat is under control.”
“Thank you.” Miranda was already reaching for the Spider Monstrum’s bag, folded impossibly small into a shimmering square. She pulled at the zipper, and the bag unfurled, warming in her hands like a living thing. Inside the dresses lay perfect—no wrinkles, no hint of being folded so many times. She looked through them quickly, wanting something really beautiful for the reception.
“Wear the turquoise one,” Korrath sent through their link. “It suits you beautifully.”
“All right.” Miranda pulled it out.
The big Monstrum helped her into the turquoise gown, his fingers brushing at the nape of her neck and smoothing the fabric across her breasts and hips. His praise was quiet, a rumble that warmed her from the inside out.
“Gorgeous,” he thought into her mind, and the image of herself reflected in the mirror, with him—all black fur and fierce green eyes—behind her made her pulse stutter.
She caught a glimpse of herself in his mental vision and saw, briefly, that she had changed again—her hair was an even richer auburn and the lines at her eyes and now mouth seemed to be completely erased.
“Did…did I change again?” she asked, turning back to the mirror.
But before she could really study herself, there was another knock on her bedroom door. This time, it was one of the bridesmaids, sounding breathless.
“Mrs. Slocum, are you okay? Hanna’s getting worried about you!”
“I’ll be right down!” Miranda called, her fingers smoothing the gown’s soft waist nervously. She glanced at Korrath.
“Five minutes,” she sent through their link. “Then come down. Sneak around the back—don’t interrupt anything.”
His thought replied, wry and tender.
“I will be careful. I will wait. I will come for you when you are ready.”
She smoothed the turquoise spider silk gown with trembling hands, took a deep breath, and forced her legs to move under her. Somehow, she felt steadier—replenished and raw all at once after the quick Bonding session.
As she stepped toward the door, she cast a last, fleeting look at the bed where the green coverlet still bore the faint evidence of their Bonding Sex. She hoped she did not look like a woman who had just been Claimed by a Monstrum—panting and marked…and possibly carrying a secret in her belly.
But the dress fit like a dream, and even if anyone guessed what she’d been doing with Korrath, the warmth in her chest told her that she didn’t regret any of it.
She opened the door and walked out, heart hammering, into the ordinary noise of her family’s celebration—into laughter and clinking glasses and the dizzying world of being a mother at her daughter’s wedding.
Everything was going to be fine—she was sure of it.
38
MIRANDA
The backyard looked lovely, just as she and Hanna had planned. Round tables draped in white linen filled the lawn, each set with little bouquets of flowers and the painstaking favors she and her daughter had spent hours making. Lanterns swayed gently in the trees, and fairy lights twinkled over the small dance floor in the center. The scent of cut grass mingled with lemon from the caterer’s pitchers of water, and the sound of laughter floated on the warm evening air.
Miranda slipped into her chair just in time to watch Hanna and her new husband cut the cake at the head table. They looked radiant—just the two of them, their bridesmaids, and the groomsmen sharing the spotlight. Miranda’s own seat, however, was at a round table for six. Unfortunately, it was the same one Martin and Jolene had claimed.
Martin kept giving her sideways looks as though he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing, while Jolene—very pregnant and flushed—looked about ready to pop. Her makeup was running, and she dabbed at her face with a crumpled napkin. Still, when the server brought slices of cake around, she couldn’t resist a dig.