Page 101 of Savoring Her Snake

I know I picked the right person for the job.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Juliana

Myscreamcutsoff.I’m afraid to open my eyes. Dropping my hands from my head, I place them on the floor and peek through my eyelashes. The ground is blue, and I blink. I’m on all fours, my throat raw. I’m still wearing Heath’s shirt and I see the tattoos through it. I want to be in his arms instead of this weird room.

Sitting back on my heels, I feel my eyes widen. The room is blue. The ceiling and walls. I can’t tell how big the room is as it seems endless. I’m on guard, expecting a snake to slither into focus. Ava’s explanation of her experience helps ease the fear, but hearing it and living it are very different. My time with Heath was mind-blowing, but I know he can’t help me now.

“Sweetheart,” a voice hisses. I twist, trying to locate where it is coming from. “Are you ready?”

“For?” I slowly stand, turning in circles. My heart pounds, echoing around the room.

“To be a snake's mate.”

“That is the point of this.”

“You have a fire inside your soul.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Shit, I can’t see anything but blue.

“Are you ready to face your fears?”

“I’m not afraid of snakes.” Bugs are different. I’m glad Heath isn’t one.

“I’m not talking about snakes.” I gasp as a figure appears suddenly twenty feet in front of me.

“Fuck.” My mom. “This isn’t real,” I whisper.

“This is your fear.”

“I don’t like this.” I inch backward.

“She made you doubt yourself. You did everything you could to not be like her. You wished for her love even though you hate her.” She takes a step toward me, eliminating the space I created.

“Of course. She was my mom. She was supposed to love me.” My breath increases.

“She doesn’t know how to love.”

“Perfect. That question is answered. Can you go away now?”

“No. You have to realize it’s nothing you did.”

“I know that,” I snap.

“Do you?”

“Are you my snake?”

“You are nothing like her,” she persists.

“If you are, I’m pissed at you. I don’t appreciate what you are doing.” I cross my arms. Panic climbs up my throat. She looks exactly like her. Her clothes are tight; the skirt is a favorite of hers and shows my mom’s body.

“Was there a time you felt loved?” She slips closer and I have to plant my feet. This is all in my head.

“What is the point of this?” I grit out.

“Did she do anything nice for you? Something any mother would do?” I wish I had my powers. I would blast her into space.

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