Debbieの小説

Jean’s POVI didn’t have a clue what I was walking into when I swung that door open. Maybe I was expecting the usual just Agora , alone, hunched over one of those damned ledgers, plotting, scheming, whatever it is he does when he thinks no one’s watching.But what did I walk in on? Not in my wildest or twisted imagination did I plan for this.Or maybe I did. Abigail ’s laugh. My sister laughs.It sliced right through me. Sharp, sweet, and just a little too intimate for this room my room. My legs just stopped working. I felt the air freeze as my lips turned numb.And then I saw. Really saw.Agora didn’t even bother trying to cover himself up. No panic, no swearing, not even a flicker of guilt. He just looked at me. Straight on. Those eyes were cold, unbothered, like I’d just interrupted a boring meeting instead of, you know, my sister’s hands all over his chest and her lips swollen from his kisses.Screaming seemed like a good idea. Ripping her hair out, maybe tearing his throat open

Jean“You don’t belong to him.”Those words stuck to me like glue. Even long after Seth was gone, the laughter from the feast crept back in. I just stood there, pressed against cold stone, trying to breathe, but my chest was tight and useless. My wolf’s awake now, clawing and howling in my gut, wild and pissed and very much alive.Hadn’t felt her like this in… what, years? Not since Agora slapped his mark on me and shoved her under, locked her down.But now? She’s up. I spent days avoiding him.But you can’t avoid the Alpha King. His presence was like gravity. You could feel it in the air, in your bones, in the way rooms tilt when he walks in.At meals, even when he looked away, I feel it. Out in the courtyard, his shadow slid past mine, his goons trailing behind like storm clouds. At night, locked in my room, I still felt him somehow. His gaze is a weight, pressing through walls, through dreams.When we actually do run into each other, it’s... hell.His sleeve brushed mine in the

JeanI stared at the closed door for some time, contemplating whether to go in and confront them or not. If I go there, there is no telling what Agora might do or say. The man barely respected me.What if he says something mean in front of Abigail ? I would be so ashamed. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe she should be the one to give him an heir since I can't. I watched for a long time, years refusing to drop from my eyes before walking back into my chambers. Drums sounded across the palace even before the sun shone, this deep, rolling thunder that shakes the whole courtyard awake. Not for me. Not for Bloodfang, either.This is for him.The Alpha King.Seth Stormclaw.I could feel him before I had the chance of seeing his face. The air just thickened like someone pulled a big cloth over it. My wolf started pacing, restless, like she wanted to claw her way out of my skin. The warriors bowed, backs bent, like they’re allbowing to something none of us could see. Even Agora , calm

JeanThe gates creaked open with anticipation. I already knew who was coming. Abigail .My sister.She walked into Bloodfang Pack like she was the queen of the kingdom, cloak sparkling like she just spilled red blood on the floor, hair sleek as midnight. She’s slender now, cheeks fuller, but her smile? Sharper than a wolf’s tooth. Everybodystopped to stare at her. That's the kind of attention she called with her beauty. “Jean!” she called out, voice as sweet as sugar. I knew her better than that. Like we’re old friends meeting at a party, not sisters with a history that goes way back.I forced myself to smile. “Abigail .”She grabbed me, hugged too tight, perfume almost suffocating, her nails digging in just long enough to say, “I’m still in charge.” It’s all theater. Always has been.“I got here as soon as I heard,” she said, eyes wide, all concerned and sympathetic. “You’ve been through so much. I couldn’t let you suffer alone.”Her words sounded caring, but her eyes said somethin

Jean's povThe room was cold, but not cold enough to numb me. I wished it were.Agora moved above me like he always does. Mechanical, merciless, driven by the single goal that consumes him. His hands gripped my hips too hard, his teeth scraped my shoulder where he marked me months ago, sealing my fate. I don’t close my eyes anymore. I stared at the ceiling until I stared at nothing in particular. My body had stopped being mine long ago.He doesn’t whisper love into my ears. He whispers orders.“Relax,” he growled when my body tensed up, when my body betrayed my thoughts. “How will you ever conceive if you’re fighting me like this?”Conceive. Breed. Vessel. That’s what I am to him. Nothing more.When he’s finished, he rolled off me without a word, his chest rising and falling like he just endured some big chore. He doesn’t look at me. He never does afterward. He only says, “It’s been four moons. Do not fail me again.”And then he’s gone, leaving me naked, sore, and sighing. I lay s