Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
“Sure, if I can remember.”
“You’ll remember, or you will be sore.”
I am already sore, which means I have little more to fear, but I don’t say that. I know when to keep my mouth shut sometimes.
“You can let her go, Kahn,” Arkan says.
There’s another brief exchange of private telepathic talk before Kahn sighs and lets me wriggle free of his grip and thigh. I am glad for the modesty of my nightgown, and for the fact that when I tilt my head forward, my hair falls over my face and I don’t have to look at either of the tall, tusked aliens who are looming over me with disapproving vibes.
It’s hellishly embarrassing to be caught stealing this way. I feel like a complete amateur. Worse, I feel small, and human, and not in a good way. I’ve done my best to never let myself think of these aliens as being any better than me. So what if they’re shiny, massive, telepathic geniuses with a world that actually functions socially and environmentally? I’m from Earth, and that should mean something.
“Come,” Arkan says, reaching for my hand and taking it in his much bigger palm. He wants me under control, no further away from him than his arm can go. I’m glad for him to have my hand if it means Kahn’s hand isn’t on my ass anymore.
“Pancakes?” Arkan asks me the question as we get to the kitchen. I am flooded with anticipation and goodwill. The prospect of hot, buttery pancakes made just the way they’d be made on Earth almost makes me cry. I think I might love him.
“You should make her something simple. Warm grains. After her behavior, she does not deserve to enjoy food.”
Kahn has followed us, which is annoying given how large the house is. Surely he has somewhere else to be and something else to do.
“The fuck is your problem?” I turn to face Kahn, annoyed and disrespectful.
“Enough, pet,” Arkan says.
Kahn gives me a death stare and looks as though he wants to come over the table at me. Arkan moves slightly, as if to prevent such an action, should it occur.
“A pet should be taught her place,” he insists. I know he’s saying it to get a rise out of me, because he could be saying this telepathically to Arkan, and he’s not. He’s making sure I hear every word.
Fortunately, Arkan is going about the business of making pancakes, so I know that Kahn’s backseat cooking is not having any real effect on him.
I take a fork from the cutlery drawer and give Kahn a look over the tines. I don’t know why he’s still hanging about.
I can tell they’re arguing in their heads again. I wonder what Kahn is saying. Arkan seems largely impassive, unbothered by Kahn’s obvious judgement. I’m leaning against the kitchen counter. I couldn’t sit if I wanted to. My ass is absolutely burning. I’m not going to sit for days, probably. But the physical discomfort is nothing on the shame I feel with Kahn’s eyes on me. He’s a stranger, an arrogant, cocky, dominant asshole and he thinks he has the right to put his hands on me and punish me even though I don’t belong to him.
I belong to Arkan.
I mean, I don’t belong to anybody, because I am a human and humans cannot be owned. I have to remind myself of that very consciously because my ass is not the only part of me that is aching. I can still feel the effects of Arkan’s mating, and I will never forget it. He said he’d claimed me, and I think that might be true. Sure, I was going to rip him off and run away, but that’s neither here nor there. Arkan has more claim to me than Kahn does, that’s for certain.
The smell of butter in a hot pan immediately improves my mood. Arkan is already starting to whip up a batter. In a matter of minutes, I’ll be feasting on fresh pancakes, and nothing Kahn says will matter. I grip my fork more tightly, refusing to let him ruin the meal. I spent too long hungry to waste opportunities to eat.
“Let her eat, Kahn,” Arkan says calmly.
“I’m not stopping her eating. I’m telling you that this is no place for spoiled little returned pets. I’m telling you…” He goes silent again, but the tension in his face, especially around his jaw tells me that he’s not pleased. His tusks are gleaming as if they yearn to rend flesh.
Arkan slides the first pancake onto my plate, and I start eating. It’s very good. Rich and buttery, and also light and fluffy. I’m immediately in absolute heaven, no longer caring about anything I’ve done, or suffered. I’ll take three more beatings for one more of these pancakes.
5
Arkan
Once we have my pet safely secured inside the crate once more, and inside a well-locked room, Kahn and I pick up all the stolen pieces of decor and return them to their proper places. It is quite an onerous task. She really was quite thorough as she rifled through the treasures and keepsakes of our ancestral home.