Free Sold To The Dragons (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) by Amira Rain, Simply Shifters Page B
Authors: Amira Rain, Simply Shifters
my wishes and wants are being discounted, here? It's as if what you and Steven both want automatically trumps what I'm willing to do to save your father. What I'm willing to do, and what I...what I feel I'm brave enough to do."
Blake's candlelit expression had been a bit on the stern side, with maybe just a hint of exasperation, but now it softened, becoming one of tenderness.
"You don't have anything to prove."
"But-"
"Not to me, and not to Steven. Not to anyone. I've noticed during our previous conversations about this subject that you seem to have this desire to prove that you're brave; to prove that you're capable. And I greatly admire that in a woman. I greatly admire that in you. But you don't have to prove it. Just because for one thing, you already have. You proved your bravery when you willingly offered yourself up to be sold at auction for the benefit of your family."
"Well, my little brothers were starving. What choice did I have?"
"Well, you may think that you didn't have one, but you did. You could have fled your town. I know some young women do, rather than be sold at auction. You could have even fled the auction hall at the very last minute, and you might have gotten away."
I recalled how I actually had almost done that.
Without consciously even thinking of the action, I began caressing the hard curve of his bicep. "Well...okay. Maybe that was some form of bravery that I didn't do that. I didn't run out of the auction hall. Resigned bravery, maybe. And I guess you're right. Maybe I do have some desire to prove my bravery. Bravery of a less resigned kind and more of a...a truly brave kind.
“Can you blame me? I've lived a quiet little boring life my entire twenty-two years. As you're well aware, I'm also working on becoming a mother, which requires strength and bravery in and of itself, obviously, but before I do...before I move on to that kind of bravery...that more daily kind of bravery...I guess I'd just like to do something I can tell my son or daughter about someday. I want to give them a reason to be proud of me, like an act of bravery I performed even before they were born.
“I want something I can remember even just for me when I'm old and gray." Looking into Blake's unreadable coal-gray eyes, I paused for a moment. "So, I guess...yeah. Maybe I do have something to prove. And not to anyone else, but maybe just to myself. And that's why I'm asking you to let me do this...to display the bravery I know I have in me by helping to rescue your father. Who I'd want to rescue anyway, even if I didn't feel like maybe I have something to prove to myself. Just because he was kind to me. And someday soon he'll be my father-in-law, which would make this a very noteworthy story to tell my future child or children. 'I rescued your grandfather. I was truly fearless and brave for once in my life.'"
Blake sighed, and I steeled myself for his response, but he didn't give it right away. I waited one long moment, and then two, before he finally issued a single word.
"No."
I suddenly disentangled myself from his arms, rolled onto my back, and stared up at the ceiling.
"Easy for you to say,” I cried. “Just 'No.' Easy for a shifter who's been fighting heroic battles against the Destroyers almost his entire life. You'll have a lot to tell your child about. You'll have a lot. 'Amazing, Dad, but what did Mom do?' 'Well, Mom allowed herself to be sold at auction, son, and we all thought that was pretty brave.'"
Blood officially boiling now, I let my breath out in a huff. "That's how it always seems to be, though. The men get to take all the credit for brave deeds and actions while we women are just expected to sit back and cheer. That's how it was back in Quincy; that's how it seems to be here; and just judging from old books, that's even how things seemed to be, for the most part, pre-Freeze."
Now staring up at the ceiling himself, Blake heaved
Blake's candlelit expression had been a bit on the stern side, with maybe just a hint of exasperation, but now it softened, becoming one of tenderness.
"You don't have anything to prove."
"But-"
"Not to me, and not to Steven. Not to anyone. I've noticed during our previous conversations about this subject that you seem to have this desire to prove that you're brave; to prove that you're capable. And I greatly admire that in a woman. I greatly admire that in you. But you don't have to prove it. Just because for one thing, you already have. You proved your bravery when you willingly offered yourself up to be sold at auction for the benefit of your family."
"Well, my little brothers were starving. What choice did I have?"
"Well, you may think that you didn't have one, but you did. You could have fled your town. I know some young women do, rather than be sold at auction. You could have even fled the auction hall at the very last minute, and you might have gotten away."
I recalled how I actually had almost done that.
Without consciously even thinking of the action, I began caressing the hard curve of his bicep. "Well...okay. Maybe that was some form of bravery that I didn't do that. I didn't run out of the auction hall. Resigned bravery, maybe. And I guess you're right. Maybe I do have some desire to prove my bravery. Bravery of a less resigned kind and more of a...a truly brave kind.
“Can you blame me? I've lived a quiet little boring life my entire twenty-two years. As you're well aware, I'm also working on becoming a mother, which requires strength and bravery in and of itself, obviously, but before I do...before I move on to that kind of bravery...that more daily kind of bravery...I guess I'd just like to do something I can tell my son or daughter about someday. I want to give them a reason to be proud of me, like an act of bravery I performed even before they were born.
“I want something I can remember even just for me when I'm old and gray." Looking into Blake's unreadable coal-gray eyes, I paused for a moment. "So, I guess...yeah. Maybe I do have something to prove. And not to anyone else, but maybe just to myself. And that's why I'm asking you to let me do this...to display the bravery I know I have in me by helping to rescue your father. Who I'd want to rescue anyway, even if I didn't feel like maybe I have something to prove to myself. Just because he was kind to me. And someday soon he'll be my father-in-law, which would make this a very noteworthy story to tell my future child or children. 'I rescued your grandfather. I was truly fearless and brave for once in my life.'"
Blake sighed, and I steeled myself for his response, but he didn't give it right away. I waited one long moment, and then two, before he finally issued a single word.
"No."
I suddenly disentangled myself from his arms, rolled onto my back, and stared up at the ceiling.
"Easy for you to say,” I cried. “Just 'No.' Easy for a shifter who's been fighting heroic battles against the Destroyers almost his entire life. You'll have a lot to tell your child about. You'll have a lot. 'Amazing, Dad, but what did Mom do?' 'Well, Mom allowed herself to be sold at auction, son, and we all thought that was pretty brave.'"
Blood officially boiling now, I let my breath out in a huff. "That's how it always seems to be, though. The men get to take all the credit for brave deeds and actions while we women are just expected to sit back and cheer. That's how it was back in Quincy; that's how it seems to be here; and just judging from old books, that's even how things seemed to be, for the most part, pre-Freeze."
Now staring up at the ceiling himself, Blake heaved