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)
She pressed her fingertips to the curved glass as though she could steady herself against the immensity of it. Up close, the surface wasn’t smooth at all—it rippled with patterns, overlapping like scales or leaves. Spires and ridges rose and fell as if the whole thing was… breathing.
God. It looked alive.
Her heart thudded hard in her chest, each beat echoing through her body. This was really happening. She wasn’t just an observer anymore, watching documentaries about the Monstrum from the safety of her little living room. She was in space. In space. Miranda Slocom, divorced high school English teacher, was flying past Mars in a shuttle beside a seven-foot-tall panther alien who claimed she would “submit to him in all things.”
It was unbelievable and yet, here she was.
She stole a glance at Korrath, sitting so calmly at the controls, as if this were nothing more than a Sunday drive. His huge hands dwarfed the console, long black claws catching the light as he adjusted a lever. Black fur shimmered across the backs of his arms where his uniform sleeves had ridden up, glossy as a raven’s wing.
And then there was his scent.
It rolled over her in waves the longer she sat beside him—musky and wild, with a sharp spice that reminded her of cardamom and cloves. Underneath was something warmer…darker—like sun-warmed fur and smoke curling from a campfire. It should have been overpowering. Instead, it slid right under her skin, warm as honey.
The scent was damn near intoxicating. Her nipples tightened beneath her bra and heat unfurled low in her belly—a slow, embarrassing flame of desire that had no business stirring at her age, or in these circumstances. She pressed her knees together self-consciously, acutely aware of the dampness gathering between her thighs.
What is wrong with me? Why am I feeling this way—especially about a guy I barely know!
She’d spent years convincing herself she was invisible. Martin had certainly helped that along—every critical remark, every glance at younger women, had carved another notch in her confidence until there was almost none left.
She wasn’t some love goddess, no matter what this Monstrum seemed to think. She was just Miranda—an overweight, divorced, fifty-two-year-old English teacher with graying hair and too many laugh lines. She corrected term papers, for God’s sake. She was not supposed to be wet and aching in a spaceship for a seven-foot-tall alien warrior!
Yet her body wasn’t listening. Every breath drew in more of his scent, each lungful dragging her deeper into a haze that felt like half-dream, half-danger.
They approached the ship’s Docking Bay—an enormous opening that looked like nothing more than a vast, transparent window in the side of the Mother Ship. Miranda blinked, confused, as the shuttle headed straight for it.
“We can’t just—” she began, gripping the armrests as they neared the vast window.
Korrath’s deep, purring voice cut through her panic.
“It is not a window. It is a membrane—alive, like the rest of our ship. It recognizes us and opens, admitting only those who belong.”
As if to prove his point, the surface rippled. The golden oval accepted their shuttle with the smooth, seamless give of water. For a heartbeat, Miranda felt suspended in liquid light, like diving into a pool of molten glass. Then they were through, sliding into the glow of the Docking Bay below.
The interior unfolded around her—arched ceilings grown from some kind of living ivory and walls veined with soft luminescence. The air itself felt different as it blew through the vents, humming faintly against her skin and carrying a faint sweetness, like sap and salt.
Her breath caught.
It really is alive.
The shuttle settled with a gentle thump. Silence followed—the kind of silence that made the pulse in her ears too loud. She tried to gather her thoughts, but Korrath was already rising to his full height, filling the small cabin like he owned every molecule of air.
He turned to her, emerald eyes gleaming, and spoke in that velvet-dark voice that made her shiver.
“Here we are, my home. You are mine now, Miranda, for the next day and night. Mine completely, to do exactly what I want.”
Her stomach clenched, and for one wild moment she almost contradicted him—almost told him she wasn’t his, that she had her own life, her own rules.
But the words lodged in her throat, because even as she thought them, her body disagreed. Her nipples ached…her panties clung damp against her skin… and some deep, secret part of her wanted to hear what exactly he planned to do.
Miranda swallowed hard, clutching the strap of her purse like it might anchor her to reality. She wanted to scoff, to laugh it off—it’s just for a day and a night, that’s all.
But she couldn’t quite lift her chin. Not when his eyes held hers like that, unblinking and utterly certain. For the first time, Miranda began to wonder…