Page 61 of Captured
“You can say that again.”
Sara smiles back, the brooding lifting from her face instantly and I can tell this is a woman I can be friends with. I still can’t fathom what she’s been through, all that she’s lost, but I know she’s the kind of person I can count on. And she can count on me.
“This is Gilea,” Sara makes a gesture toward the tall female. “She’s a friend of mine.”
Gilea inclines her head in Sara’s direction and for the first time the corners of her lip lifts in the faintest smile. That dazzling, cold beauty softens and I peer through the mask at the female behind it.
Maybe she can be a friend, too.
“You are very different, Sara and you,” Gilea says to me, her voice as ethereal and perfect as she is. “Sara doesn’t look like you at all. She’s pink, slim, and fined boned. You’re dark and short and very round.”
I blink. Not what I expected her to say at all. I glare at her, unsure if she meant her comment as an insult or a compliment. Or neither.
“Humans come in different looks, that’s just how it is.” Sara answers, obviously not bothered by her friends’ brutally honest comment. “We’re a more diverse species that the Drakian.”
I shoot a furtive glance at the other two Drakian females, noting how uniform and similar they look. They simply stare back, curiosity plain on their faces, but no judgment there.
“I see,” Gilea answers, but I can’t really tell what she’s thinking. “Sara is the only human female we have seen. She is still a novelty to us, so you have to excuse us for comparing you two. Prince Rakir chose you as his Amara, so it makes you worthy.”
There’s something in the way the female speaks that sets me on edge. Like she intends to compliment me, but doesn’t succeed entirely.
“Thanks, I guess.” I mutter, the awkward inspection finally getting the best of me. “And what about you? Are you someone’s Amara?”
Gilea’s mouth spreads in a thin smile and she extends her wrist to me. I have no idea how I didn’t see it earlier, but now that I look, I’m speechless. Again. It happens a lot.
A swirl of symbols wraps around her wrist in a copper tone. I reach for it instinctively, fascinated by the color and texture. Just before my fingers come into contact with her skin, it covers in a mother-of-pearl scale.
The scales last only a second, then they fade away into her skin, disappearing completely. They don’t have the same black scales as the males, then.
It makes sense. I guess. I’m not sure what makes sense anymore.
“This is my Fyln’s marks.” She smiles, emotions spreading on her features for the first time. “He Binded me three years past.”
From the obvious pride she shows, I gather this is an honor she’s eager to share. A glance at the other silent female tells me she’s someone’s Amara, too.
High ranking officers, maybe. Men who can afford to bring their mates with them when they go out on long missions.
“Now, let’s see you prepared for the Binding.” Sara smiles wider as the other two move forward. There’s no hesitation in their movement, no indication that they’re at all uncomfortable with the idea of watching me getting fucked in front of everybody.
As they fuss over me, braiding my hair, exclaiming about its heavy, thick curls and the softness of my human skin, I’m left to contemplate what is going to happen.
There’s no way to avoid it and to my greatest shock, my core clenches and arousal spreads into my belly.
This is wrong in every way possible, yet it feels right.
