It was a deliberate feature for this room. Combination containment area and lunchroom. Every office should have one.
I circled the table in the center, over and over again. There was no escape—a snake might squeeze through the air duct in the ceiling, but I certainly couldn’t.
I flung open the fridge and pulled out a jar of jam. Tossed two slices of bread into the toaster and minutes later, sat down to eat.
Nothing else to do. Might as well have supper.
I heartedly regretted not sticking my remaining knife into a vulnerable and valued place, preferably on both men. But especially Kurt. If he couldn’t father children, I’d hopefully be off the hook.
His twisted expression flashed through my mind. Maybe not. He’d keep me—just to be a bastard.
There were washroom facilities attached to the room. I walked in and looked at myself in the tiny mirror over the counter. As usual in the pallid lighting, my eyes looked brown. Which they weren’t—they were actually a deep blue.
My mother’s eyes, apparently, although I had no memories of her. She’d disappeared shortly after I was born. My father had never been able to determine what had happened to her.
For just an instant, as I stood there, an image of brilliant emerald eyes flashed through my brain.
That Drake had been so handsome. Very different features from the over-sharp bone structure and obsidian eyes of the Taziers, whose gazes were cold and cruel. This member of the Raptor Clan had possessed the same arrogance, but his eyes…
I must be imagining things. He was aDrake. The enemy. Just because he had pretty eyes, didn’t mean he was any different from the others.
My butt was itchy where I’d been tagged. Maybe if Kurt saw me scratching it, he’d be so turned off he wouldn’t want me. I reconsidered. Nope. Knowing him, he’d likely be turned on by it instead.
I pulled the pins from my dark, wavy hair and let it fall around my shoulders and down my back. Before I returned to the lunchroom and made myself more toast.
For over two hours, I contemplated my miserable options in life. Eventually, the door opened again.
I stiffened, but I had been expecting them. Purplish leathery skin wasbarely visible through their woolen hats and the heavy scarves wrapped around their heads. With the usual complete disregard for complimentary colors, their parkas clashed horribly with their uniforms. They were about my height, and their skin color pronounced them as male.
Drolgok registration officers. Their kind had served the Drakes for many generations. And their thrashing tails were a clear indication that they were not amused at being summoned this late in the evening.
Both took off their parkas and unwound their scarves, revealing large yellow eyes above pronounced snouts.
My brother hovered over them. “There has been a discrepancy with her true birthdate,” he lied. “We have been remiss in not checking our records.”
“You could have brought her in earlier,” one complained. “We were ready to head home for the day.”
“I apologize,” Travis stated. “We had a shipment to deliver, and got held up.”
Their expressions matched my own—enough to make me wish I had a tail to thrash, too. This was something I’d hoped to avoid. The eartags were designed to keep track of every female on the planet. And the injection—that was something else again.
No one could tell me exactly what the injection did.
One of the Drolgoks pulled out a chair and gestured to me. “Come here.”
I eyed Travis and the open door beyond him, but it wasn’t as if bolting would gain me anything now. On the city streets, my freedom would only last a matter of days, if that. The eartags couldn’t be blocked, and I’d never heard of anyone successfully removing them.
I walked over and plunked myself down. The fingers that pulled my hair back to expose my left ear trembled.
The assistant Drolgok had everything ready, and he handed his boss the eartag. I winced as the pins shot through the cartilage to secure it.
Then the assistant handed him a syringe. I couldn’t help it. I flinched from him, my feet gathering beneath me to launch away.
The three-fingered hands were attached to arms deceptively strong for the lack of height. One of them pressed down on my shoulder, the fingers spreading up my neck to hold me steady as he injected it into the far side. That stung too.
Overall, just a swell experience.
“I have someone waiting to apply for a mating license for her,” Travis said.
