Rejected (Shadow Beast Shifters #1) - Jaymin Eve Page 0,50

to care that it was almost the same size as me now and could blast me across the room if I pissed it off. Thankfully, before I had to throw down with a smoke cloud, Gaster appeared, beaming smile in place. “Wow, you’ve certainly brightened up the place with your hard work today.”

It legitimately took every single ounce of my self-control not to punch his chirpy mouth. Had I said I liked him earlier? What the fuck had I been thinking?

“I’m going to show you to the dining hall,” he chirped, “where you can procure as much sustenance as you need.” My spirits lifted, and just like that, he was off my shit list again.

“Thank the beast.” I gasped, letting the broom clatter to the floor. It vanished in a flash, the magic of this room demonstrating in no uncertain terms how useless my sweeping had been. “I’m about five seconds from starving to death.”

My wolf raised her head, rumbles rocking my chest, and I realized that this was the first time I’d felt her in hours. She was subdued here, calm in my chest, and at times, I wondered why she acted as if we’d been shifting together for years, rather than one or two times. The weirdness of that, though, was so low on my crap-to-worry-about scale that I barely even gave it a second thought.

Nope. My wolf and I—and our dysfunctional relationship—was the normal part of my current life situation.

Sad to say.

22

Food. Glorious food. Probably the second-best part of this magical library world I’d found myself in. Food and books, could anyone ask for more?

“Do you eat like this every single day?” I enthusiastically asked the woman a few seats down from me as I shoved a large slice of rare roast beef in my mouth. At least I hoped it was beef, but whatever, it tasted good.

She turned toward me for the first time, her nose wrinkled as she stared me down. I blinked back at her. “Not much of a talker, hey?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “Don’t stress. I can talk enough for both of us, and before you know it, we’ll be fast friends.”

Her eyes, a startling magenta color, widened as shock crossed her perfect face. It took a few more awkward staring moments for me to slot her firmly into the “Honor Meadows” world. She had that otherworldly glow of the beings from that land, and a face carved right from an angel for sure.

Clearing her throat, she stood, the dark amber-colored wings I’d missed in my first perusal springing into view. With her alabaster skin and long, mahogany hair, she was almost the complete opposite of the first woman I’d seen from Honor Meadows, but if these two were any indication, everyone from their world was tall, willowy, and perfect.

“Do you have males in your world? Or other sexes?” I asked, and again, she just stared—clearly, she had no idea what to make of me. She and Shadow could probably start a support group. “I’m just curious. I think it’s awesome if you only have one or no defined genders. Labels are annoying anyway, right? And, seriously, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it because you’re hot as hell.”

No doubt she now thought the half-starved shifter was not only crazy but also hitting on her. If only. The fact that I couldn’t experience a true sexual attraction toward women when men were such assholes was one of my greatest laments.

Another blink, and then she spun, hightailing it out of the room.

With a shrug, I went back to eating.

Gaster had dropped me at the dining hall about twenty minutes ago—approximately, since I was just guessing time at this stage—and when I sat, small robotic creatures buzzed around, asking for my order. About the same height as Gaster, they didn’t have faces, and were more like mini phone booths on wheels. I added them to my list of creatures to learn about—the never-ending list.

Now that the beautiful woman from the Honor Meadows was gone, there were only a few other beings in the room, along with the robot-servers. The dining hall itself wasn’t that remarkable, mostly filled with long, wood tables, running in rows with ten or so feet between each bench. It’d sit at least a few hundred in here at full capacity, but that was its only claim to fame.

For the rest of my time there, no one came near me, and I wondered if Angel Face had already