Page 8 of Victoria's Discovery

What is he… oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. That asshole is laughing!

She couldn’t hear him, but that was definitely laughter shaking his shoulders. That, or he was having some kind of seizure that made him smile widely and caused his purple eyes to sparkle with mirth.

Narrowing her eyes, she sent him an indignant look. That only made him laugh harder.

I take it back. Youarea dick.

Whether she’d made some kind of sound or Cuddly just thought it was the right thing to do was anyone’s guess, but he decided that was a good time to start patting her ass.

Victoria’s eyes popped open wide, and she jerked in surprise at the first gentle swat. Unfortunately, that jerk pushed her breasts into his chest.

Cuddly froze with his hand resting against her ass and made a low, questioning sound of confusion.

Ah, shit.

Victoria cringed and tried to subtly arch her chest away from him, but it was too late. He slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her away from him, craning his head to peer down at her at the same time.

Eyes wide, she reluctantly met his gaze. His features went slack as he gaped down at her.

Trying to gather some moisture in her suddenly bone-dry mouth, Victoria smiled weakly and rasped, “Hi. Please don’t kill me?”

Chapter 4

Theganrikkr stared down at the female nestled in his arms in slack-jawed shock.

He’d thought she was a kittling, but the face staring up at him was not that of a child, nor were the breasts he’d felt against his stomach.

When he’d heard Thorngrimnir shouting, he was still disoriented and deeply unsettled to wake up and find that, not only were he and his friend no longer in the forest, they were in some kind of cage, surrounded by things the likes of which he’d never beheld.

The only thing he’d been sure of in that moment was that these things did not come fromJorundfell.

Tales of otherworldly beings were commonly told, both in ancient writings and the occasional news of a sighting that reached them from other clans, but he had never seen any. He had not thought there would be such variety. There were people and animals of every shape, size, and color.

When he’d stopped gawking long enough to look over and see what Thorn was shouting at, Thegan hadn’t thought to look past her small stature and obvious fear. He hadn’t thought at all, really. He’d acted on instinct—instinct that had been honed to a keen edge from having one of the only breeding-aged females in the clan as kin.

Gods, he’d picked her up! And rocked her like a child.

It was a wonder his face was still intact instead of so much meat under her claws.

That thought was enough to cut through his shock and give him pause.

Whywashis face not shredded? Why hadn’t she attacked?

Females were not known to be particularly gentle, to begin with. Life was hard, more so after the Clan Wars robbed their people of so many women. The threat of capture to be used as a broodmare by clans who’d forsaken their honor only made it, and them, harder.

Thegan could not imagine even the most temperate of females taking kindly to being grabbed by a strange male and treated as a kittling.

And, yet, there she lay, making no move to leave the cradle of his arms.

Frowning, he quickly scanned her body, worried she did not move because she was injured. Or hemeantto scan her quickly.

He was fairly positive he ended up staring.

He’d already noticed her odd, fire-colored hair—not that anyone could possibly miss it—and pale, whitish skin, but now that he was actually looking at her, he realized she did not appear different because she was from some distant clan he hadn’t encountered. She appeared different because shewasdifferent, as in notJorund.

Thegan felt his brows slowly climb up his forehead as he took in the lack of horns, her strange, delicate facial features that were unmistakably notJorund now that he could see them, and the thin, blunt claws on her fingers.

His heart nearly stopped in his chest when she spoke.

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