Marko N. I.Eighteen; it had taken eighteen goddamn hours to find her, and if it weren’t for the nosy ticket master at the bus terminal where her trail ended, he would have taken longer.If the alpha hadn’t spotted her, if it weren’t for the ticket master, if it weren’t…if it weren’t for situations external to him, he would have no idea where to find her.But even in the realisation of his helplessness when it came to her, he couldn’t help but gawk at her audacity to escape him.To run from him in his territory when he ensured he held all her travel documents. Should he have put her at flight risk as well?How in the hell was he supposed to keep her if she took every chance to rid herself of him?All the psychology books recommended hot and cold techniques, push and pull, to keep one hooked, but while her body yielded readily for the hot pull, she fled at every cold push.‘I do not understand, your majesty.’She began before he could assemble the chaos in his mind.‘...do you view me
His desperation to have me answer the question is searing; this is my second time having sex; of course, I am not on birth control. Yet, I can’t bring myself to confess because I am not proud of that; I would rather he think me easy, so he gives little credence to our time together. “Even if I was on the pill, you’ve had my luggage for weeks; I do not get benefits from the pill osmotically.” After a string of curse words, the Lycan excused himself for a few minutes, leaving me in the awkwardness of his rage as if I were its sole source. He returned a while after my knees ceased their wobble, and the haziness had abandoned my mind. “I sent the car back in favour of a helicopter; it will be here within the hour, so we have time to rinse off.” “Rinse off where? The water here is abysmal.” “There is a-” A frustrated sigh breaks his statement. “It will be faster if I show you.” His post-orgasmic clarity is getting on my nerves; for one thing, he makes his anger too noticeable for me
The dress fit my frame, but its bodice pressed my breasts so tightly that they felt ready to spill from their confines. My reflection in the mirror, dressed up with cosmetics whose expense I can only hope is not tied to my bank account, looks tired. For all the glamour, my fatigue remains clear. "If I were you, I would avoid Alpha Aldrich, you cannot hunt, and you have an untrained wolf; while his province is thriving, it needs you at peek combat performance. That and he will use you for breeding. Alpha Castille has...a troubling record, so steer clear of him as well. I recommend Alpha Rhett, but he loves his bachelor title too much, so perhaps Alpha Theodore; he left a relationship with his childhood sweetheart, so…." The council-assigned assistant and etiquette manager, Regina, continues her lecture as the last pin is placed on the gown’s seam. She has been talking non-stop for nearly an hour; whether I listen or not, the information is the same as yesterday, only rushed because
My hand reaches for the champagne on the refreshment table next to me; the vibrant pop and fizzle of escaping gas on the pink liquid look too enticing to pass, so I down its sickly-sweet contents in an unladylike fashion, hoping that it would help its ‘liquid courage’ hit faster.“I take it you have conversed with Alpha Aldrich?”An unfamiliar feminine voice that I turn to face asks.“Is it that obvious?”“If you go for the alcohol, then yes. Do you remember me?”I examine her cocoa complexion and brown eyes a little keener, hoping they clue me in on her identity, but they do not.I want to lie out of politeness, but I am certain there will be follow-up questions.“No, sorry.”“Figures, popular girls never recall bookworms.”“I was popular?”“You were ‘Marko’s sister’; of course, you were popular in the academy. Are you kidding me? Never thought you’d leave, though.”Right, I was and still am stuck with the label, ‘Marko’s sister.’“I am Beatrice, by the way, a potential Luna, just li
Alpha Rhett’s control is waning, but he does seem like himself, like my state does not alter his reasoning. "With me, priestess, you must be firm." His thumb strokes my lower lip, and before he leans in, I press the palm of my hand to his lips, blocking the kiss he instigates. “I ca-.” I try to utter that it would be wrong of me to mislead him, but his hands circle my waist, and he tosses me in the air; wholly unprepared for the act, a slight squeal leaves my lips. On setting me to my feet, his hand rubs my back soothingly as I try to compose myself. “You crazy-!” I utter, with a punch to his stomach, but the curse I intended halts in my throat at his mischievous laugh. There is no awkwardness in my rejection; in fact, it is as if its existence is my imagination. “Thank you.” I whisper breathily; while my body still sears, the haze that typically dominates lifted at his jolting toss. His hands are still on my waist, and while their heat feels uncomfortable, I do not wish to
I want the Lycan to finish what he so rudely started, to defile me as he promised, but the turn of his face towards the hall while I stand before him, dripping in arousal, cuts deeper than my need to fit his length inside me. The pain searing through my chest emphasises the pathetic way I feel about my body's deceit. His incite of my arousal publicly was mortifying, but my yearning for his touch, my press of my breasts to his lips, and my fingers in his hair afterwards make me loathe myself....so, must I also let him tell me that he would rather be elsewhere? Must I let him emphasise how laughable I behave under his name? "Formalities dictate that you must head back; it is not a good look for his majesty to miss a formal event planned in the castle.” I utter to excuse him; when I phrase it like that, it seems as if he has no choice, right? As if it is beyond his powers to leave me, even if I am certain it is his preference. "Ten minutes." He utters before pulling away from me and
The document in hand read Chelsea shore: a coastal port known for constant oil spills by the rig at its heart; though the province is among the leading distributors of oil, the constant spills render it unfit for living; hence the once thriving merchant state remains reduced to a quiet coastal town for paupers and ruling middle class whom all work for the oil production in varying levels. At least, that is the letter’s summary. I have gone over it thrice in the helicopter that had yet to depart, and each time I did, the knots in my stomach only grew. How can I purify such a large area when merely a spring made me faint? I am grateful that the opportunity takes me away from the Lycan and the castle; it was growing hard to avoid him anyway, but what if I fail? The entire event is a publicity stunt to appease the kingdom, but…I have never intentionally trained for such a purpose. ‘It’s fine; I will guide you.’ Kaisa insists; this is her eighth time saying that. While I believe he
Marko N. I 'Return princess turns miraculous priestess; a tale of forbidden love.' Again, Marko’s gaze strayed to the heading’s subtitle. Return princess who discarded her title to be a priestess finds mate amid late-night purification rituals in the Chelsea slums.' "Scandal on her first mission! God, we should have sent more men to keep her still." An elder uttered furiously. "Doesn't she understand that such behaviour can spark a war?" Another responded. But again, his eyes strayed to the title. "But...are they really mates?" Elder Brenda asked. "If they are, we must consider a collaboration of sorts; you know how stupidly bound people behave if they are forced apart." "They are not mates." The answer came with more steadiness than he felt; for a second, he had not even realised that his voice rang across the room, silencing all commotion. "Can your majesty say that with certainty?” Elder Brenda responded. “I know she is your sister, but with the history between the t