Wild Beast Mate(44)

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because I have plans for you.” Vice stood and offered me his hand. I took it. We all followed him outside the private quarters, through a brightly lit hallway and all the way to the upper deck. The doors swished open, and we stepped into a dimly lit, clean, warm room filled with beasts in uniform and the low buzz of working tech.

Behind me, Jamie was telling Rey where they were, and from what I understood, she’d been here before. But I hadn’t. It was amazing. Half the room including half the roof was done in glass or whatever the beasts used, so it gave the illusion of an open space. To the right, the crew nodded, acknowledging us, then stood at attention.

To the left was Beast City. My feet moved as if on their own, and I came to stand closer to the screen. “It’s beautiful up here,” I said, then turned around, realizing I’d ignored just about everyone in the room. Vice made the introductions and sat down behind some sort of a console, next to another blond beast man.

Vice motioned me over, and I sat on his lap, looking down at the blue, yellow, and red patterns on the console before us. Vice swiped his hand over the patterns, hit some buttons, moved things around, and a blueprint of the ship showed up on the screen. The blond next to him grunted, moved his hand over his console, and once he was done, ours read: “Flight training mode.”

I leaned back against Vice’s chest.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and whispered, “You can’t train with Jamie because I’m gonna teach you how to fly this ship.”

I gasped and turned so I could look at my beast. Vice looked smug, a smirk on his face. He’d planned this, and I knew he’d planned this because the crew in the back, along with Jamie and Rey, scattered around the room and sat on the chairs against the walls, strapped and ready for an untrained pilot. “Fly the ship?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“This entire ship.”

“Yes.”

I threw my arms around him. “I love you.”





Thank you for reading Wild Beast Mate. Following is a peek into the next in the series.





Afterword





Milana

If you could go back in time which historical figure would you love to meet?

Here is mine. Dewlyn’s story is inspired by historical tellings of Serbian Princess Olivera. In order to preserve her people during the Ottoman rule, Olivera’s mother, Milica (Militza) gave Olivera to the sultan. Before she gave her away, she took her to a woman and had her organs removed. When I first learned about Olivera, I found her a heroine.

I want to meet her. But I can’t.

When I wrote Blind Beast Mate, I knew who Dewlyn was and what drove her. However, I kept Dewlyn’s character close to my heart and didn’t intend to share her story. It wasn’t until readers asked for Vice that I decided to pen Dewlyn. I wondered how could I give Olivera a life after such a tragic experience not of her choosing. So I gave her someone who’s gonna make her blissfully happy.

Thank you for reading Wild Beast Mate. On the next page, sneak a peek into Sent Beast Mate, a book with a lighter theme and tone.





Sent Beast Mate





uncorrected proof pending release




Reagan



Hushed voices awoke me from a dead sleep, and I turned my head to look at the light coming from underneath the door. Mike’s watch on my wrist read three in the morning.

“Reagan?” Hanna, my bedmate, whispered.

With our bodies crammed on a single bed in a tiny trailer and facing each other, I couldn’t safely roll my eyes without offending her. She was one scared puppy, but man, the girl talked a lot. “Shhh, I’m trying to hear,” I said.

“Me too,” she said. “Are they coming?”

The putrid stink of tobacco and alcohol filled the trailer as Douglas, one of the Men of Earth, stumbled inside. I closed my eyes, my back to the door.

Hanna and I pretended to sleep. We’d been pretending for several nights while listening to the men get drunk in the circus tent next to the trailer. Late in the night, they’d wobble their drunk assess across the camp, debating which one of us girls they’d take.

They hadn’t taken any of us. Yet. But we all knew pretending to sleep soon wouldn’t be enough. And I’d seen the way Douglas looked at Hanna, a pretty girl with long red hair, dark skin, and dove-brown eyes. A perfect victim. Young, naïve, and left without family.

Men of Earth had taken over our camp here in Butt-fucking Nowhere, New Mexico. Apparently, their transport broke, and they sought shelter. They saw our circus camp. We took them in. They didn’t leave. And neither did the five girls they brought with them. I’d kept Hanna safe since Men of Earth had taken over our camp, held Mike, the man who’d raised me, hostage, and killed more then half the performers, the same people I’d grown up around.