Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 113332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Magpie sighed. “I will consider it. But please talk to Laurent on my behalf. He isn’t very good at texting.”
Beast hummed. “Sure. I will,” he lied.
“All right then. I suppose, we should start addressing each other with our given names now that we’re so closely bonded. Have a good day, Kai,” Magpie said and hung up, leaving Beast stunned.
“What the hell?” he mumbled, instantly scowling when he saw an unread message from Jake. Was he to have no peace at all on this godforsaken day?
He answered in their code about where to store the weed for the party. He’d been taken aback when Laurent questioned him about the club’s future, but in truth, he would have loved a two week break from it all.
Beast looked to the stretch of forest greenery, only to scowl when he spotted Laurent getting out of Elliot’s car on a stretch of road running along the clubhouse. Didn’t Elliot have a broken wrist? How was he to drive Laurent anywhere? Or the egg for that matter.
It had grown so much in the weeks since its creation Laurent had started using a larger backpack to keep it around at all times, because it wouldn’t even fit in the old one anymore. Comparing to the size of a heavily pregnant woman’s stomach, the egg wasn’t hatching any time soon, so there was still time to deal with all necessities, but he’d already began making arrangements. As Laurent’s close friend, Nao had volunteered to pretend being the birth mother. It was kind of ironic, since she’d been vocal about not wanting kids, but at least they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone challenging their custody in the future.
Beast’s heart sank when he noticed that Elliot wasn’t the man behind the wheel. Sure, letting Laurent drive seemed like a nice enough gesture, but Beast still remembered that time in winter when Laurent skidded, making a full circle in the middle of the road and took it so badly he’d needed a day off from driver training. And a hug. And hot chocolate with a whole pack of marshmallows.
The way the car kept coming to an abrupt stop was a telltale sign of Laurent driving, and Beast felt his guts twisting. He was positive Laurent was safe enough on club grounds, but Marcel was still growing inside his shell, and none of them had the vaguest idea about the toughness of that material.
“So fucking reckless,” Beast hissed and whistled at Hound, heading toward Gray’s apartment on the other side of the sky bridge. He intended to go down the stairs and leave the building via the club gym, but the unusual silence made him stop. He was already missing the usual patter of padded feet and claws hitting the floor, but when Hound let out a low growl behind him, Beast’s hand reached under his vest, to the holster.
When he spun around, ready to take on the man sneaking up on him, the dog was hunched over, his teeth bared as he stared at emptiness, and Beast let his hand drop by his side. The bristling hair on Hound’s back left him confused, but when Beast studied him in more detail, he spotted the glint of reflective glass next to one of the windows. Realization came with the whiff of smoke, but before Beast could have called Hound to his side, flames burst from the floor, creating a wall of fire that obscured the corridor Beast had earlier come through.
He screamed out Hound’s name but when the heat of the flames breathed into his face, the mangled skin covering his left side tightened, already recoiling from something that could inflict further damage. He stumbled back when smoke erupted from the piece of glass he’d previously noticed, filling the air with fumes so thick Beast could feel them leaving tar down his throat.
Even his bones screamed in fear that had been burnt into his flesh when he’d lost his mother, his good looks, and the man he used to be. But despite the flames licking their way down the sides of the skywalk and covering the windows with soot, he could still breathe. There was still a way out. Perhaps if he crashed through the window, he’d end up with broken bones, maybe a few more burns, but his body had been through so much and lived that this couldn’t be the end.
He was about to charge into the glass when the fumes thickened, pulling back to gather in one place despite there being no breeze to cause this. Beast took in the smell of sulphur, but once he saw the smoke form a tall humanoid shape with twisted horns, he felt relief. None of this was real. Baal could not influence the real world without making pacts, which meant all this was only an illusion.