Submission (Fated Souls Book 2) by Elle Lincoln

Author:Elle Lincoln [Lincoln, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-04T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Sabina

The haze of sleep lifts gradually, as though I’m peeling cobwebs from my eyes. My body lies on a cloud, while a furnace radiates behind me. I burrow deeper into the pillows, closing my eyes, and wonder again if I can fall back into that place of twilight sleep, where I can arrange my dreams and play them like a fiddle.

That fairy tale eludes me, however, as snapshots of yesterday pierce my thoughts. Images spin on a reel while I sit in a mental theater, watching it play out on the screen. The aches in my body remind me it is very real and not imaginary. Every disturbing scene repeats while my thoughts and emotions churn.

How many times can I end up covered in blood before ketchup freaks me out? Apparently, a few times, and I’m still okay with ketchup. I envision the bitter condiment plopping on the floor like yesterday. I’d lick it off the floor, so I’m still good with ketchup. Blood? Maybe I’m becoming numb to it. I recall some moms of my kindergarteners. How their sleepy eyes don’t even flinch at a new bruise or a scrape.

Okay, so shooting and killing a creature of lore isn’t the same thing. It isn’t as if I have all that life experience to compare it to.

I groan, flipping over to throw an arm across my eyes, only to prop up on my elbows a moment later and take in where I am. Outside, the fading light of day glimmers through the window on a dancing sunbeam. I trace the ray as it highlights a simple wooden desk, where a stack of papers sit on the wooden surface and an old ink well rests beside it.

“You’re thinking too hard,” the beast beside me speaks.

I look away from the desk, my eyes lingering on a second window and dressers with bits of clothing dangling out of the drawers before sliding over to Athos. He lies beside me on top of the blankets with his arm thrown over his eyes. His hair spills over his white pillow in golden waves, his undercut grown out along with the scruff on his face. He looks rugged and handsome and yet bone weary, as though the weight of the world burdens him.

My eyes dip down his body to the sharp lines of his muscles and his golden skin that glistens in the sunlight. Soft gray sweatpants sit low on his hips, the fabric hugging a certain, perfect anatomical bulge. A sprinkle of golden hair dusts his abs, and like an arrow, it points down to the package that twitches at my perusal.

“I can feel the heat in your gaze, little cub.” His elbow creeps down until his eyes hold me in his possessive gaze. There, heat dances in his eyes, and I lose myself just a little as I sway toward him. That gaze holds so much promise. Inside, my stomach tickles with butterflies.

When we finally mate, I know he won’t be easy on me.

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