KHLOE Khloe ran through the woods with her wolf, Kyra following her closely. It was still very early in the day and the sun was not yet out and so she had deemed it fit to take her wolf for a little jog through the woods. That was what Kyra wanted. The sound of a twig snapping nearby made Khloe lose focus momentarily. She spun around quickly to make sure that no one was following her. She knew how dangerous it was for her to be out in the woods with Kyra at such an early hour. Luckily for her, there was no one there. It was just her imagination. “Pheww,” Khloe sighed in relief. She ran on, picking up speed and Kyra who was only too happy to be challenged to a race increased her own pace, and in a matter of seconds, Kyra was already way ahead of her and she was sweating profusely. “Alright,” Khloe laughed and slumped to the ground. “You win, again. I think we should have a quick rest.” “Someone’s coming,” Kyra mumbled through the mind link. “Let’s keep running.” “O
CHAPTER 194MELVINNO ONE takes what belongs to me and gets away from it, ever since He had seen Caleb it was obvious there was something wrong about him.He could take anything but this was like the last piece of a puzzle, the fact that he had sneaked into Asgard to kidnap her was the highest disregard.It was obvious he was angry about what had happened, Either way he had made up his mind about all of this.He was Melvin Asgard the Vampire King of Asgard– Though it was not yet declared it was something pending.He was damn good at what he did and right now all he wanted was to get his woman back.Deep down he was aware of something telling him in his mind that there was no room for regret after all this.One thing was fact and that had to be that all men had to taste the bitterness side of life before he could taste the sweet.He knew how important this was, it was the same mistake his father made by attacking them but then there was no justification for what he had done.He nurs
It was his eyes that did it. It was his eyes that enraptured her. Shehad heard of eyes like these, but she could not remember where. Eyes like two gleaming silver coins, like the half arch of a crescentmoon in the sky just before she had to start the Moon dance. It was his eyes. The man in question had shoulder length hair. Dark, very, very dark. Hair that shone with oil. Even from across the room, Khloe could smell it on him, the sweetness of scent that no man had the right to be wearing. But this man was. And it made Khloe want to bury her face in the side of his neck and inhale, even when it would have be more prudent if she sunk her teeth into his neck instead. Prudent, because she was tied in a chair before him, silver manacles attached to her legs and hands, holding her to the chair. The cuff were tight. Almost too tight, such that if she squirmed or moved even the slightest bit, they cut into her wrists and ankles. Prudent, because there two men standing guards at both sides
KHLOEA banquet was what it was. There was no other way to describe it.It was a splendid one, too, as expected. There were rosettes standing lonely and beautiful in glass vases. The hall had a highceiling, white, such that if you looked above you would experience afeeling similar to that of staring at the heavens on a cloudy day.Below, rugs of fine fur adorned the black marble floor. Candles filled every inch of the halls, glowing a kindly, warm yellow, each one standing on solid metal ornate candle holders. The light from the candle fire reflected onto the glossy floor, and when one looked at it, the black marbles resembled a river of oil afire.It was beautiful. Fire was such a beautiful thing that if you did not know what it was, what it could do, you let it draw you to it. Khloe had once seen a moth drawn to a flame. It burned in seconds, leaving behind the smell of singed ants.That was what I felt about Caleb. He was like fire, burning everything thing he touched. Every girl in
MELVINThis is no job for a king, Melvin I thought as I scoured the wetground for tracks.On the wet dirt floor, there was a trail of footprints. These werenot wide footprints. They were not the foot imprints of a man, by the looks of it. They were smaller. A child perhaps, or a woman. A smallwoman. They went on and on through the woods until they disappeared completely, vanishing all of a sudden right in the middle of the trail without any trace.It was as the person who had made the prints had vanished as they had, growing wings and flying off into the night sky.A tracker, perhaps a human tracker would have been terrified out of his mind. He would have turned tail and retreated the moment the tracks of his quarry vanished, or if he was a braver, less sensible tracker, perhaps a young man with plenty of talent, he would sniff around and poke around the woods until he gave up. But Melvinwas neither human nor frightened. What he was was disgruntled. Frustrated. Very, very frustrated.
CALEBHours before the ceremony, hours before choosing Khloe, I stood in front of the enormous, ornate-framed mirror in my quarters, preparing myself for the ceremony.I hated my birthday. I hated it the way the Blood Moon pack hated vampires: with a bestial ferocity that had not diminished over the years. I loathed the loudness, the audacious pomp and pageantry of it, the unnecessary flourish that accompanied it every passing year.It was not that I did not like parties or partying. No. Far from it. It was the forced excitement that I loathed, the way it was done, lacklustre despite all its shininess. It was done like most obligatory things were done. I loathed that falseness very deeply, despised it even more. I had long since come to learn that werewolves, on certain occasions, had a thirst for wine that could rival the burning thirst vampires had for human blood. There was time like that, I knew, a time of unbridled thirst, unbridled longing, and not just for blood. For land.
KHLOEWords, Khloe had learnt the hard way, were what people hurled at you when they could not palm stones, when they discovered to their utmost displeasure that your continued existence was, in fact, their salvation. And it was common knowledge that the Blood Moon pack, besides being werewolves, were at the end of the day just people. So they filed their words carefully, honing them until the edges were sharp enough, until they were jagged enough to imitate metal, keen enough to cut through layers of skin and brittle bone, salient enough to pierce through to her beating heart. And when she outgrew the names and the knife like words, when she developed a coat of thick skin, they too evolved. And so did their hate. They learnt new cruelties, adapted new techniques to make her life an unpleasant existence, even if they could snuff it out entirely without destroying their own selves, too. And at the head of this aggression, Caleb could very often be found—at least when they were younge
TYBALDTo Tybald, there were only two things important in this world: his family and the Blood Moon pack. They were, however, interchangeable as the Blood Moon pack was and had always been his family, and at the same time, his family, Caleb, his wife, they were the same as the pack. Family was like a pack—once you had them, you could never lose them. You could never give them away, even if you wanted to. They left their marks all over a man, paw-prints in the soil, proof that the were there once. That they would always be present, even when they were not. Tybald understood this well, perhaps more than any person he had ever known. How could he not? The war of wolves and vampires had ended nearly a lifetime ago, fought and won when there was not yet salt in his hair, when he was young and brutishly strong. Yet those that he had loved and lost to the battle were there with him, they walked at his side in the light and in the shadows. His father, blood brothers, his wolf brothers. At ni