by Stasia Black
“David,” Jonathan said hurrying over to them. “What’s going on? How—?”
David just laughed, pulling away from Drea, though Eric noticed he did grab her hand, unwilling to completely let go of her.
“We went in and the battle began exactly as planned. We had the greater numbers and we were winning.”
Drea beamed at David. “Of course you did. You’re brilliant.”
But David shook his head. “Well I didn’t count on one big contingency.”
Drea’s eyes popped open wide. “What? What happened?”
“A couple hours in, we were making headway, cutting down Travis’s army, not taking too many losses, when suddenly, we saw them in the distance. Just this huge wave of soldiers coming in as reinforcements.”
“Oh my God,” Drea whispered, panicked eyes going outside again. “So did they—?”
“No, no, it’s okay,” David immediately reassured her. “But yeah, I was all but shitting my fatigues at the time. I thought it was all over.”
“So what happened?” Eric bit out. Enough with the storytelling dramatics. Military men and their war stories, he fucking swore.
“Well it turns out, the Army who’d already been stationed here in San Antonio didn’t much like the change in leadership when Travis killed President Goddard. Travis tried to pin it on you guys,” he nodded Eric’s way, “but no one believes that. They know it was Travis. Some of these guys had fought with Goddard way back in the day. Even if they hadn’t, patriotism still means something to them.”
“So when they saw we had a force that actually had a fighting chance of taking San Antonio and leadership capable of holding it,” David grinned at Drea, “they joined our side. They turned on the soldiers loyal to Travis and helped us round them all up. Now you have an army of twenty-five thousand at your disposal.”
He looked at Drea as he said it and she was obviously as confused as Eric was.
She glanced behind her but obviously no one was there. “What do you mean?” she asked. “I don’t get it.”
But then Jonathan started laughing, obviously picking up on something that Drea and Eric still weren’t.
“They wanted a strong leader,” Jonathan said.
David nodded. “And they’d heard about you, Drea. What you did in College Station has become legend.”
Drea scoffed. “But that was just—”
“And then taking out the satellites? That just cinched it.” David either missed or ignored Drea’s flinch as he waved around him. “And then this. You’ve freed so many women. They call you The Liberator, Drea.”
Drea’s eyes narrowed. “That’s ridiculous.”
But Eric was already shaking his head. “No, it’s not.”
Drea shot annoyed eyes his way but he kept going, “No, hear me out, Drea. Think of what you could do as President.”
“President!?” she sputtered, half coughing the word, but Eric was on a roll now.
“Yes. President. You’ve always said women should have their own voice. This is their chance. Are you really going to let some man step in again who will make God knows what arbitrary rules concerning women? You didn’t like the laws I made and you like me.” He waved a hand. “Most the time anyway.”
She sputtered again. “But, I— I—”
Then she turned away from all of them, hands running through her newly bobbed hair.
“What?” David asked. “I think it’s a great idea. I was going to suggest you as governor of San Antonio Territory but this make more sense. We declare you as the alternate President. There’s no scenario in which we don’t have to unseat Arnold Travis.”
That was when Drea spun on them and Eric witnessed the stark terror on her face. “It can’t be me, don’t you get it?” she cried. “I let down anyone who depends on me. Haven’t you looked around you at the women in this hospital? This is what happens to the people I try to lead! And what happened to Gisel—”
“No,” Eric crossed the room until he was standing in front of her. “That’s bullshit and I thought you’d finally understood that earlier. You didn’t do this. Evil bastards did this. Not you. The fact that you’ve stood up again and again to these fuckers is why people keep wanting to follow you.”
Billy joined his side. “God, Drea, if only you could see yourself the way we see you. You’re so much stronger than you even know.”
She shook her head, looking from each one of them to the next. “But I’m not.”
Eric only reached out and took her hand, and then, one by one, so did all the rest of her husbands.
“You are strong enough,” Eric said. “Because our strength is your strength. If you fall down, we’ll pick you up.”
“If you stumble,” David said, and Jonathan picked up, “We’ll catch you.”
“We’ll always be there for you,” Garrett said.
“We’ll always love you.” Billy said.
“Always have and always will?” Drea asked, looking around at them with a vulnerability that gutted Eric. He would be this woman’s strength until the day he died if she’d let him.
“Always,” Eric swore, and pulled her into a kiss.
Epilogue
SOPHIA
Sophia held her purse up on her lap and let out an irritated huff at Finn who’d pulled their truck over to check his compass for the ten millionth time.
“Oh my God, Finnigan, we’re going west. The sun just came up, so guess what? If we go in the opposite direction, we’re heading the right way!”
“Oh wow, please do edjumacate me some more, Miss Sophia. Me big dumb boy. Don’t know my ups from my downs,” Finn quipped as he snapped the compass shut and pulled the truck back on to the road to head—you guessed it—exactly where Sophia had pointed out they should go five minutes ago. “It’s not like I’m the one with all the tracking experience who’s been out on about a hundred Scrapper runs. How many have you been on again? How many trips have you taken out of Jacob’s Well, in point of fact?”
Oh, how she wanted to smack her purse in his superior face. Instead, she smiled sweetly. “You mean the diplomatic missions I’ve been on? Seven. Compared to your… how many was that again?” She held a hand to her ear. “Oh, zero? Hmm. How about that.”
“And to think, we’re only a day into this little adventure. I thought it’d take at least five before you turned into a harpy fish wife.”
“Harpy f—” Sophia cut off in a huff, turning her face fastidiously away from Finn. Finnigan Knight was absolutely, positively the most annoying boy on the entire planet.
She wished she could go back in time and uninvite him from her little diplomatic trek over to New Mexico.
Except… well, she most likely did need the big, dumb oaf.
When they’d received the call from the governor of Santa Fe in New Mexico, she couldn’t have been more excited.
New Mexico! No one had heard anything from them in years other than the occasional trader who claimed to have passed through on treks from farther lands. They claimed it was all but abandoned apart from roving herds of bandits.
There’d been rumors that there was some sort of war between the southwestern states like New Mexico and Arizona around the same time as Texas’s war with the Southern Alliance States. No one had any real concrete information, though. Which was in itself odd and not a little spooky. An entire states’ citizens didn’t just disappear.
Well, the person who’d called Jacob’s Well’s sat phone had answers.
There had been a war, which they’d lost to Colorado. Apparently Colorado was the state they’d all been fighting, just like the Southern States had all been ganging up on Texas. And like Texas, Colorado also won—and when they did, they apparently took all the women from the losing states.
Sophia hadn’t been able to stop herself from gasping at that. No women? At all?
None, said the Governor. At least none that hadn’t been hidden extremely well. But that was difficult to manage for long since New Mexico wasn’t the
most forgiving land.
New Mexico was finally starting to rebuild, though. At least in Santa Fe. They’d gotten Jacob’s Well’s number from President Goddard’s trade secretary, the man said. And not only was Santa Fe a thriving community that had restored a portion of the power grid, but they were eager to establish trade relations with The New Republic of Texas.
Anything Texas wanted—in exchange for brides.
Brides.
That was the term they’d used. If they’d said women, like they were trying to sell women or barter them like cattle, Sophia might have hung up right there.
But no, apparently they’d heard of Jacob’s Well’s lottery system. They wanted in. And they’d pay big for the privilege.
“It’s the future of our nation-state at stake, you understand, Miss Wolford?” the man on the phone had pleaded. “Without you, we’ll disappear in a generation.”
How could she say no to that?
But she wasn’t going to just rush in. She had to make sure they were who they said and that they could offer what they promised.
And she wanted to show them good faith that they could deliver the goods as well.
So she was going.
To offer herself as the first bride.
It was ingenious, really. Dad needed men. Troops to fight Travis and take back the Republic. New Mexico had men. Plenty, it sounded like. And Texas had women. There were all the ones Drea had just freed and even more once they liberated San Antonio.
Plus, Sophia was sure Daddy wouldn’t let some other jerk take the Presidency. Not another President Goddard. Maybe Daddy himself would be President. He’d done such a good job with Jacob’s Well. Imagine what he could do with the whole New Republic! He’d definitely honor whatever agreement she made.
Then Sophia frowned. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled with her the last time they’d talked. And they’d gotten cut off so abruptly and then the battery on her sat phone had run out and she hadn’t wanted to go back to the caves to get another. Nope, she didn’t want to run into Dad again until her mission was a success.
Besides, she could use the sat phone they had in New Mexico. Or better yet, just show back up with her new army behind her, like a modern day Joan of Arc.
Sophia sighed happily.
“Do I even want to know what it is you’re plotting over there?”
Sophia glared Finn’s way, her good mood immediately souring again. Right. Finn. The unfortunate tag-along she’d been forced to ask to help her.
Because while she might like to pretend she was a warrior-diplomat, yeah… the warrior part might be a stretch. She felt confident of her diplomatic abilities—hadn’t she watched her dad at work for years and welcomed every new girl to Jacob’s Well since she’d turned seventeen—if some bandit or smuggler came after her while she was traveling, she’d have no idea what to do.
She’d thought carefully about all the people she might approach to help her. Maybe Nix or one of Shay’s husbands. Or maybe Vanessa would lend her those big, burly twins of hers…?
But talking to Dad had put the kabosh on that. Any of those people would only side with her dad. They’d tell her she should wait. That she should take more people. Or more likely, that she shouldn’t go at all. That was definitely what Dad would say.
So she had to go before he got back. And take someone with her who was totally reckless with little appreciation for authority or doing things the proper way: Finnigan Knight, ding ding ding ding!
Because no matter what Drea or anyone else thought, she was more than just Daddy’s little girl. She cared about the future of the Republic as much as anyone else. She loved her country. She’d fight for it. She’d… she’d die for it, if it ever came to that.
A shudder ran down her spine at the thought, but she only stiffened it and sat taller. But it was true. Those courageous boys out with the General fighting in San Antonio weren’t the only ones who could be brave.
Maybe most people wouldn’t think much of a couple of days travel and then throwing an elaborate wedding… well, there was still something to be said for a feminine form of warfare.
Sophia had dreamed of her wedding for as long as she could remember.
And obsessed about her lottery so many times she’d about crawled out of her skin waiting for the day to finally come.
Well, here it was. She turned nineteen next week. And maybe the wedding wouldn’t be exactly as she’d always imagined, in the old Catholic church in Jacob’s Well, with the big bell that rang out over the town and echoed in the hills. And maybe her dad wouldn’t be there standing beside her to give her away. And maybe she wouldn’t be surrounded by the faces she’d known since she was a little girl.
But she’d be married and finally get a start on her lifetime of loving someone, several someones, and learning what it felt like to be loved back.
And that was all she’d ever wanted.
She let out another happy sigh, imagining her future husbands. Would they be big men with lots of muscles? Or sleek and refined? Maybe one of each? Would another be musical and sing her to sleep at night? Ooo, or a poet! She’d love to be married to a poet.
Sophia, how I do love thee, let me count the ways…
She couldn’t help the happy sigh that escaped.
“Are you like, constipated over there?”
“What?” Sophia jumped in her seat and glared again at Finn even as she felt her face heat. “No I am not— Why would you even say—”
“I don’t know,” he said, one hand casually on the wheel as he glanced her way before looking forward again. “You just keep making these little noises. Hmmmm. Ooooohhh,” he mimicked.
She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, turning her back to Finn and looking firmly out the window.
“Oh come on, Soph,” Finn laughed. “I’m just joshin’. You’re just so pretty when your cheeks get all pink like that.”
So— Pretty? Did he just—
She swung her head back around to look at him but he was watching the road again. He did glance her way, though, and caught her looking at him. He shot her a quick wink, then went back to looking at the road like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Sophia let out an infuriated huff and swore to herself that as soon as she was married, she would have nothing to do with Finnigan Knight ever again so long as she lived.
Preview of Hunter: a Snow White Romance
Chapter 1
ISOBEL
VANESSA TO JASON: Did you break up with her yet?
VANESSA TO JASON: I know her dad just died but thats not yr fault. We deserve to be :)
Jason’s cum was still inside Isobel when she read the messages on his phone. He was showering after they’d had sex.
They’d been dating for three years. Long distance for the past year since Isobel had come back to the city to be close to her dad after he got the diagnosis. Pancreatic cancer. The doctor gave him six months to live. He made it eleven, only passing away early last week.
Jason came for the funeral. They hadn’t been intimate for almost two months before that, but Isobel had wanted the comfort of being in his arms tonight. After everything with her father, and God, her stepmom, it had all been just too much.
So Isobel went to the guest bedroom and slipped into Jason’s bed without turning on the lights. It seemed like the one thing that might make her feel like a whole, sane person again.
Jason was hesitant to touch her at first. Which only stoked all her worst fears. She’d gotten fat. He wasn’t attracted to her anymore.
So she’d redoubled her efforts. Touching him the way she remembered he liked best. Going down on him until he was hard and thrusting in her throat. Then crawling up the bed and getting on her hands and knees so he could push into her from behind. He liked to grab her hips and pump her hard. She also suspected he liked to watch his big cock disappear between her ass cheeks.
But she wouldn’t let him turn on the light when he tried. He had no idea what bravery it took for
her to let him touch her naked body at all. With no clothes to obscure her problem areas, he could feel all her flaws if he brushed down her thigh, or even worse, if he moved his hands up from her hips to her waist.
In the end, though, it barely mattered. It was over so quickly. And the part she’d been looking forward to the most—the cuddling afterwards—was nonexistent. Almost the second he grunted and spilled in her, he started muttering about needing to get cleaned up. Then he was climbing off the bed and heading for the shower.
His cum was still dripping down the inside of her leg when the ensuite bathroom door closed and his phone on the nightstand buzzed with an incoming text.
Which was when she read Vanessa’s words.
Vanessa, her best friend back at Cornell.
Vanessa.
With Jason.
Vanessa and Jason.
Isobel blinked in the dark. Her mind tried to reject the idea even as the evidence glowed on the screen right in front of her.
The screen went dark but then buzzed in her hand again, lighting up with another text alert.
VANESSA TO JASON: to get you thru the lonely nite til you come home
The phone buzzed again with a shirtless selfie of Vanessa squeezing one of her bared breasts and making a sexy face at the camera.
Son of a bitch! Isobel threw his phone against the wall, only feeling marginally better when she heard the screen crack.
And then she yanked the bedsheet around her and stormed into the bathroom. Because enough. She’d had enough. Hadn’t life thrown enough shit-bombs her way lately?
“You cheating bastard!” She jerked the shower curtain back, revealing a startled Jason, foamy shampoo thick in his hair.
“Baby,” he looked at her, his hands going up in a defensive posture. “What are you—”
Baby? Fury like she’d never felt before lit her up inside.
“Get out!” She leaned down and slammed the shower knob, shutting off the water. God, she couldn’t even stand looking at him. Had he been comparing her to Vanessa the whole time he’d been having sex with her? Even the thought of it made her want to scream. So she did. “Get out. Now!”
