LOGINYour comments and ratings go a long way. Thank you, my readers. You have stayed this far. I appreciate. ~Mmeso Writes
Zerina's point of view Time moved in the slowest, cruelest way it always did when you were anticipating something or someone. I sat cross-legged on the floor of my room, directly in front of the TV, staring at the blank screen like it might magically turn on by itself if I glared enough. Everything was already set up. The blankets were spread neatly across the floor—the softest one I could find, the ones that smelled of clean laundry and comfort too. I had stacked the pillows against the bedstand in a way that made the whole setup look inviting and warm. Perfect. Everything was perfect. Except that one thing was missing. My husband. Oops, I giggled. Those words sounded foreign in my head. I checked the time on my phone again, even though I'd checked it less than ten seconds ago. What were those two brothers discussing down there? I hope everything is fine. Two knuckle heads in one room. My eyes widened. I hope they won't fight there. I wanted to go down and chec
Author's point of view The moment Zerina stepped out of the dining room, it felt as if the air itself grew colder. The silence she left behind wasn't peaceful—no. It was heavy. Like the whole mansion was holding its breath because she wasn't there to soften the atmosphere anymore. Darkling watched her go before he sat down, pushing his plate aside. Lysander's gaze followed Zerina until she completely disappeared from view. Only then did he turn back. The softness he had shown her, that warmth he reserved only for her vanished in a blink. His entire aura shifted just like a predator tossing away its disguise. "What do you want, Icarion?" Lysander's voice was cold. No emotion. Just pure, frigid command. Darkling's jaw clenched. The sound of that name, Icarion—slithered under his skin like poison. "There we go again, brother," he said with a smirk, even though his fists were curling tight. "Calling me the name you know I so much despise." Lysander's lips lifted into a slow,
Zerina's point of view I was still trying to compare their distinct features. I didn't even realize I was staring that hard until, suddenly, the man behind me slid his hands to my waist, pulling my attention back to him. My heart jumped. "Stop looking at him like that, little one," he whispered close to my ear. "If you keep doing that, I might start thinking you're asking for trouble. And dear wife, this single act makes me want to punish you." The little smile he gave me was almost playful, but it still sent a warm shiver down my spine. I didn't know how to answer that. Why would he punish me? "P-punish?" The word slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. I was kind of confused. "But.. didn't you say you'd only.. um.. punish me if I broke those three rules?" Lysander's lips curved slowly, and suddenly his hand came up to cup my face. His thumb brushed my cheek so gently that my breath tangled in my throat. "Zerina, I never said that I will punish you if you don't ob
Author’s point of view What? They grew up here? Together? Zerina was amazed. It kind of made sense in a way she still couldn't understand. The house looked so ancient like it existed since the 1800's. Or did their parents just build it this way? Was it their taste? And come to think of it...what about their parents? Where were they? Are they dead? A thousand and one question bubbled in her head and as if Lysander knew…the man released a low breath, glaring intensely at his brother for spitting something like that out while Darkling just kept eating without even glancing at him again. He only looked up to smile playfully at the curious Zerina. The room shifted just a little— like the air tightened between the two men. Zerina felt it immediately. It wasn't just the sharp kind of tension. It was quieter, heavier like two storms sitting across from each other. And somehow, Mrs. Aveline's warnings about Darkling only made the weight on Zerina's chest grow stronger. Yet at the
Zerina's point of view My fork slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the plate. His face, which had been calm moments ago, had tightened into something colder. His eyes burned with that terrifying, icy glow I'd come to recognize means he was done being patient. "Now , Zerina!" I swallowed hard and pushed myself up and walked closer to him. His gaze never left me. Every step felt like I was walking towards a storm. When I reached his side, he caught my hand without hesitation... warm fingers wrapping around mine, firm, commanding — and he gently pulled me onto his laps. Yes. His laps again. I froze, halfway perched on his thigh, not even sure how to breathe anymore. I expected him to tell me that I should go to my room. But he didn't.. he didn't push me away. He settled me properly on his lap, one strong arm circling my waist to steady me. I stared at him, stunned. "Take your plate, and continue eating. " I was confused. His voice dropped lower, colder and
Author's point of view This little wife... How could she do this to him? How the fuck is she making him lose control? "Zerina, you're unbelievable." He told her, his eyes suddenly intense again. Zerina blinked in confusion. She doesn't know if this is a compliment or a diagnosis. "You poke it once and I can endure it. Twice and I can tolerate it. Multiple times.. and I managed to keep myself in check." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "But waking the beast up, little one, means you're playing with fire." He pulled back slightly, his eyes still locked with mine. "Do you know the consequences you will bear if I lose control? What in the world were you thinking?" He asked softly, then the corners of his lips lifted just enough to make the girl's lungs collapse. She knew whatever he was about to say next will be something mischievous. “Do you want more, huh, Zerina?” He asked her, caressing her cheeks with his free hand. "Are you so eager to touch it direct







