Chapter 1 - Keziah

540 9 0
                                    

*THIS IS AN EXTENDED SAMPLE.*

Get an exclusive 50% off e-book retailer prices when you use code WATTPAD on https://vtbonds.com.

Visit my website and use code WATTPAD for 50% off retailer prices on all e-books. You'll also find signed paperbacks, discounted audiobooks, and swag packs!

Sign up for my newsletter (link on website) and enjoy free and filthy Bonus Scenes, coloring pages, and NSFW artwork.

Knotty reading!


It's not enough. It never is.

I clutch the top of the bag in my fist, holding it closed despite the strap crossed over my shoulder. If I don't guard it carefully, pickpockets will snatch up the meager contents. The chaos of the street surrounds me, but I keep my feet on the path I always take on Tuesday afternoons.

Skirting around the barefoot gang of boys kicking the ball of garbage back and forth, I hurry down the street toward the hut I've lived in my entire life. Before I take the last turn, I glance over my shoulder and make sure no one's following me.

I don't expect anyone to be, but old habits die hard. Even with my bag mostly empty, there's always the threat of getting jumped for the contents.

Off on the horizon, the old city buildings tower above the crowd of huts, a dark stain left by our ancestors. Only the worst type of businesses remain within the decaying city limits.

My babu visits there often. Not by choice, but because mouths require food, and he has many to fill.

My throat scratches as I swallow, the dry air and lack of water a constant drain on my energy, but I push through the discomfort and finish the trek home.

Peering through the open window, I breathe a sigh of relief as I count four little heads and hear my mother's soft singing. After moving the curtain just enough to slide through the front doorway, I make sure it closes behind me so the sun doesn't heat the air of the entryway.

"Kezzie, you home!"

I slide the bag to the small of my back and squat down, opening my arms for the incoming hugs. Two tiny arms wrap around my chest and give a slight squeeze—my sister Jestu is always the first to greet me when I get back home. At four years old, she still holds an exuberance for life and more energy than the rest of us combined. I tighten my arms around her and bury my nose in her braids, filling my nostrils with her scent.

She wiggles out of my embrace and pulls her twin, Jutin, into the space she just occupied. I trail my fingers down the side of his face and kiss his forehead, respecting his preferred physical boundaries. His clear blue eyes stand out against our dark flesh, the power and knowledge resting within just waiting for the day when his body transitions into adulthood. Wiser and more sedate than any child has a reason to be, he graces me with a small smile before turning and grabbing Jestu's hand. He drags her away, knowing she'll never let me pass deeper into the house if he doesn't distract her.

I stand and rest my palm on Sierra's shoulder, searching her eyes for an update. When she offers me a little smile and shakes her head side to side, I nod in relief before squeezing her shoulder. At twelve years old, she should accompany me to the market, but I can't leave mama without help while I'm gone. I kiss her temple and shift to step away, but she grabs my hand with both of hers.

"What is it?"

"I do not know. I have a bad feeling."

I search her expression again and note the worry lines on her brow. She weaves her fingers within mine and shakes her head again, sending her short black hair bobbing back and forth.

Saved and SavagedWhere stories live. Discover now