Page 5 of Their Little Anzerine
Kafran does the same to her other hand.
“What are you doing? Stop,” she whimpers, but her anxiety eases a bit at the same time.
I kiss her fingertips. “We have a tiny quill behind our front teeth, Little one. We can use it to pierce your skin. Our serum will help you relax.”
Her nostrils flare with every breath. Her brow furrows deeply. “Don’t do that.” She pouts adorably.
I smile at her as I release her hand and cup her face, tipping her head back. “We’ll do whatever is necessary to calm you, Baby girl.”
Kafran is still holding her hand. “Tell us who that man was and why he was shouting, Mercy.”
She winces as I release her cheek. “My husband.”
All the air leaves my lungs. “Husband?” My voice comes out high-pitched.
She plucks at the front of the odd dress she’s wearing. “I’ve been married five hours.”
I run a hand down my face. Married females are not permitted into the club, but this one most certainly belongs to me and Kafran, married or otherwise. I don’t care about her marital status, but the government might, if her husband puts up a fight, which was already evident.
“Ah, so this is a wedding dress?” Kafran clarifies.
She winces. “The ugliest one on Earth. Yes.”
I’m baffled. “Why did you come to the club tonight? And why are you barefoot?” I ask.
“It’s a long story.”
I smile. “We have hundreds of years together to hear it, Baby girl. But give us the short version for now. Riand will be here with the pod to move us to the mothership shortly.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “Are you really going to take me to your planet?”
“Yes,” we both say at once. No matter what the consequences might be or what red tape we have caused on Earth, she is ours. We won’t let her go. It’s not an option.
She takes a deep breath. “Fredrick Angelo is not a good man. I don’t like him. I was forced to marry him against my will, but I knew I couldn’t go through with what he was going to expect from me tonight, so the first chance I got, I kicked off my shoes in the limo, jumped out, and started running.”
I stare at her, absorbing her story. “How far?” At least now I understand why her feet are cut.
She rolls her eyes and sits taller, pointing down at her body with both hands. “Do I look like I could run a marathon? It was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t plan it. The idea came to me, and I leaped out of the car at a stoplight a few blocks from here. How far do you think a fat girl like me could possibly have run?”
I flinch. My eyes bug out. “Excuse me?” I grab her face again. “Did you just refer to yourself as anything less than perfect?” My voice rises. I don’t like her tone or the insinuation. If she has body image issues, she’s going to have to get over them in a hurry or spend the next decade in the corner with a sore bottom.
Kafran must agree with me because he growls, “Little girl, do not ever put yourself down again.”
She gasps, blinking. “But, I’m just stating a fact.”
I lean in closer, holding her gaze firmly. “I speak for the both of us when I say that you may not speak ill of yourself ever. The next time you do, one of us will spank your bottom until it’s too hot to sit on for a week. Do I make myself clear?”
Her breath hitches as her eyes widen in shock.
“Say ‘yes, Papi,’” Kafran orders.
She swallows hard, eyes on mine. “I thought you said your name is Skarg.”
I lean in even closer. Our faces are inches apart. “It is, but you will call me Papi. You will call both of us Papi. It’s what Little girls call their mates on Eleadia. It’s a term of endearment.”
She lifts a hand to grab my forearm. “But…”
I shake my head. “No buts. Answer me. Do you understand our rule, naughty girl?”
