Page 6 of Their Little Anzerine
She searches my gaze. “This ugly dress is doing a poor job of hiding my rolls, but trust me, they’re there. And I’d love to take this stupid wedding gown off, even though that will mean revealing the truth. Do you have something I could borrow to put on? I could go into the bathroom and change.”
She’s feisty. I’ll give her that.
“Mercy…” Kafran says in a warning tone.
I release her chin so he can take over. I’m fuming that my girl thinks so poorly of herself. Whoever told her she wasn’t perfect needs to be hanged. And even worse, I suspect the man she just married played a role in her poor self-esteem.
Tears start to fall down her cheeks, and she crosses her arms and lowers her face.
My heart can’t take this. I do not like seeing my girl cry. It hurts my soul. I make a vow to myself that no one will ever make my Little girl cry again. Not as long as I’m alive.
Kafran squats in front of where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed. He sets his hands on her thighs, which isn’t easy considering the amount of gaudy material piled on her lap. “Look at me, Little one.”
She sniffles, but she obeys him.
His voice is calm as he speaks. “You are our fated mate. Every inch of you is exactly perfect just the way you are. Skarg and I are humbled to have found you. There are no words to express how excited we are to start the next chapter in our lives with you. There are a million things we need to tell you about what your life will be like on Eleadia, but let’s start by making sure youunderstand we will have rules. The first one is that you may not speak ill of yourself. We forbid it. Do I make myself clear?”
She slowly nods. “Yes, Papi.”
It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.
Chapter Three
Mercy
I can’t believe this is happening. Any of it. I’m still stuck in the tornado. I’m scared out of my mind that it isn’t going to let me out of the funnel cloud.
It’s not possible that two giant alien men waltzed into Zack’s office, swept me off my feet, and carried me up to this apartment. Maybe I fell outside and hit my head, and this is all a dream.
I’ve always had a vivid imagination. I believe it’s because for most of my life all I had to entertain myself was my imagination. Mostly because I’ve spent so much time alone, but also because my mind has always been my way of escaping my reality.
Kafran grips my chin, smiling at me. “Good girl. Tell me what you were doing with the scissors when we entered the office, Little one.”
I wipe my tears away and giggle. I’m not sure if I keep laughing because I’m slaphappy or relieved or just coping, but it feels good. I pluck at the mountain of material in my lap. It’s sohigh that I have to push it down just to keep it below my chin. “I was cutting off the bottom of the dress.”
Skarg sits next to me and wraps an arm around me, pulling me into his side. He’s so huge that my head barely comes up to his chest. “Why?” he asks.
“It’s too long. After I took my shoes off, I was tripping over the front. And there’s so much material that I couldn’t hold it up. I figured I could only hide out in Zack’s office for so long, and then I would have to leave again, on foot.”
Kafran lifts the frayed front of the dress where I’d started cutting. “No more scissors, Little one. They aren’t safe.”
I stare at him. He’s making no sense.
Skarg gives me a squeeze. “You’ll learn we Papis are very overprotective. Your days of using sharp objects are over.”
I turn my attention to him. “I don’t think scissors are usually considered a dangerous tool,” I joke.
He lifts both brows. “It’s not up for debate. No scissors. No knives. No forks. Nothing sharp and pointy. Would you like to keep arguing with us?”
I swallow. “No, Sir.” I’m confused, but it doesn’t seem like continuing to state my case is going to be helpful. In fact, I clench my butt cheeks at the thought of one of them spanking me. Were they serious?
Kafran picks up one of my feet and looks at the bottom, wincing. “There are cuts on your soles, Little one. We need to wash them and put some antiseptic on them before they get infected.”
Skarg continues, “We need to get this ridiculous dress off you and give you a bath. You’ll feel so much better after a soak in Eleadian water.”
Before I can fully grasp his intention, Skarg leans back, grabs the zipper at the top of my neck, and lowers it all the way down my back.
I gasp and clutch the front of the pile of tulle to keep it from falling away from my chest. They don’t seem to understand what’s under the piles of material. How could they? It’s hiding me.
