After an accident, Imara, a 28-year-old plus-size black woman, ends up in a strange rainforest world from a bittersweet novel she read. This wild jungle is full of mysterious and dangerous beastmen, just like the stories she used to read.
To stay al...
It took us little to no time to reach the City of Beasts. I can't recall when I went to sleep, but Harvey woke me up by kissing me all over my face, saying, "Wake up, my love, we're here." I exhaled, smiled, and looked around.
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Normally, I'd smile and wave, but today wasn't the day. I felt off, as if I'd woken on the wrong side of the bed. My mood wasn't sour, but it wasn't sunny either.
Scanning the crowd, I read the expressions on their faces. Whispers and murmurs floated in the air about my hair, my appearance, the massive wooden wagon I rode on, the guards surrounding me, and the mate mark prominently displayed on my neck. None of it was negative, but the sheer attention grated on my nerves. Maybe it was because I hadn't truly wanted to come here in the first place.
After a brief survey of the scene, I turned my focus back to Harvey. "So, are we house hunting now? Did you find some options for me to explore?" keeping my tone neutral.
Harvey shook his head, his calm smile soothing. "No, I thought we could go house hunting together. That way, you can choose the ones that interest you."
His thoughtfulness brought a smile to my face despite my mood. I held out my hands to him, and he lit up, taking me into his arms and carrying me princess-style. I could hear the soft murmurs of the crowd intensify.
Leaning close to my ear, he whispered, "Are you alright? Are you not feeling well?" His perceptiveness always amazed me, and I found comfort in how attuned he was to my feelings.
"It's nothing to worry about," I reassured him. "I just wasn't expecting all the stares right after waking up. It was a bit overwhelming."
He frowned slightly, his protective nature shining through. "I'm sorry."
I kissed him softly. "No need to apologize. None of this is your fault."
As we started exploring potential homes, some curious males trailed after us, bombarding us with questions about the large wagon. Harvey didn't have to lift a finger; the guards and our companions handled the inquiries, keeping everyone at bay while ensuring they maintained their distance.
However, as the crowd grew, so did my irritation. Harvey noticed immediately and gave a subtle signal to one of the guards—the same one who had carried me that day when I collapsed.
"Scram!" the guard bellowed, his roar echoing through the bustling street. "Imara does not want to be bombarded!"
The command sent most males scurrying, though a few with two or more stripes lingered, keeping a respectful distance. The reprieve gave me enough space to focus on the task at hand.
We toured several houses, but none of them felt right. Some were too big, others too small. A few were poorly lit, while others were simply impractical for a family. Only one piqued my interest—a house situated in the heart of the city, though its central location came with the drawback of constant noise and a lack of privacy.
