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The Itch
Meryl’s lips parted. “What do you mean, I am yours?” she asked, baffled, as her gaze darted between the Brishor and Chezzal.
“I will answer your question when the time is right. For now, you should think about how to settle here and make yourself at home,” said Brishor, leaving her.
Meryl wanted to object to him, but before she could say another word, he said, “You are a part of my kingdom now, so you better get used to the idea.” She swallowed her saliva thinking that she was going to be forever stuck here, without her consent? She bit back a whimper that threatened to rise in her throat because her eyes were burning with unshed tears. A thousand questions flitted through her mind. “You are only going to be happy here, Meryl,” he added.
“
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