Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I take it and crunch into it. It's been steamed just enough that it's still crisp, and an unusual flavor bursts across my tongue. It's amazing, and it makes me realize how terrible the nutrient paste is. "They're going to get mad I'm eating your food," I point out, chewing.
"Then they will learn to make enough for two of us. If you are mine—and you are—they will know that to make me happy, they will treat you well."
I pause in my eating as a new thought occurs to me. "Is the food drugged?"
"They don't want me drugged," Crulden says, as if he has all the answers. "They want me cooperative. And I am, now."
He nudges the bowl toward me when I finish chewing, but I don't like the thought of eating all his food. His body's much bigger than mine and probably needs a hell of a lot more fuel. So I take another one of the stalky green vegetables and offer it to him. "You eat, too."
Crulden takes it without a sound of protest and shoves the entire thing in his mouth, his tusks working ferociously. His mouth is kind of terrifying, actually. I've never seen teeth like that before. I think about how his body shot up with spikes the moment he freaked out, and my heart pounds with a twinge of alarm. There's a lot of him I've never seen before. That means he can't be predicted.
"Fear-scent," Crulden comments as he holds out another slice of meat to me. "Why?"
"I don't have a good answer."
He scowls.
"It's a lot to take in all at once, all right? You." I gesture at his cell. "This. I had little enough as it is and you've taken it from me."
"What did you have?" he asks. "I will have them replace it."
Is he…serious? "Well, for starters, I had plans to escape." I keep my voice low, hoping that it's not picked up on whatever observation equipment is around. "Can't exactly escape with a spotlight on me, which I have now, so thanks for that."
"Spot…light?"
"Attention."
He grunts. "Tell me more of this plan."
I squint at him, frowning. Then I reach out and take another piece of food. Damn it, even his noodles taste better than the leftovers we sometimes get. I feel a little weird for eating with my fingers, but he's doing it, too, and that makes it seem more acceptable. "It's not a great plan. Just…more of a goalpost. The less noticeable I am, the easier it'd be for me to eventually escape."
"That…is your plan?" Crulden snorts. "I noticed you right away."
I want to point out that he's a freak, but that seems…unwise. "I was actually flying under the radar pretty well, thank you."
He makes another dismissive sound and pushes the bowl toward me, indicating I should eat more. I do, because they'll bring more. If Crulden asks for something, apparently he gets it. "I noticed you right away," he states again. "You are strange and ugly, for starters."
"You're no dream prince yourself!"
That makes him bare his teeth, and for a bizarre moment, I think he's snarling. It takes a heartbeat for me to realize this is his version of a smile. "No, I am strange and ugly myself," he admits. "But you do not carry yourself like a slave. Your scent is not one of fear. You met my gaze when I looked at you instead of cowering. If the others ignore you, it is because they are bigger fools than I thought."
I mentally file all this information away. Act like a slave in the future. Don't make eye contact with scary fuckers. Got it. "So that's where I went wrong."
"And now you are mine, and none of this matters," Crulden says, as if everything is resolved.
14
CRULDEN
The female eats my food in quick, surreptitious movements, her shoulders hunched as she leans forward. It's like she expects me to snatch it from her, but she glances around while she eats, and I realize it is not me she thinks will stop her from eating. It is others.
This both pleases me and makes me angry. I like that she fears me less than others. I like that I am feeding her.
I am furious that she thinks someone will take this from her. The sludge they gave for her portion makes me equally angry. I am glad that I asked for her. Now that she is here with me, I can take care of her. Eventually, maybe she will trust me enough to let me touch her. Until then, I will be her protector.
Once the food is gone, she heads to the lavatory and gives herself privacy by holding up the blanket in front of her. I pretend not to notice, since it bothers her, and I'm fascinated when she washes her hands and then her neck and her face. She smooths her hair down with a damp hand and glances over at me.