LOGINThank you for reading! :) See you in the next chapter ;)
Thank you for reading ❤️ see you in the next chapter 💕
Maryelle’s POVThe jet’s wheels screeched against the tarmac, jolting me back to reality. As the cabin door opened, the humid Georgia air rushed in, thick with jet fuel and anticipation. John fell into step beside me, his green eyes scanning the perimeter with the precision of a panther. I touched his arm lightly, forcing a smile. “Thank you, John. I can handle myself from here,” I said, voice steady despite the storm inside me. He hesitated, then gave a curt nod, stepping back as if releasing me into the wild. My boots hit the ground, each step pulling me closer to the terminal where the crowd thinned—and then I saw him. Phantom. Alive. Waiting. My heart surged, and before I could stop myself, I closed the distance between us. I sobbed, pulling him into my arms and kissing him—a kiss I never would’ve attempted in public before because public displays of affection were not my thing. I find usually them cringe. "You're okay," I whisper between teary kisses. Relief floods me, drown
Maryelle’s POVI glance over my shoulder—the black sedan is still there, trailing us like a shadow that refuses to dissolve. Israfil’s fingers tighten around mine, a quiet anchor of friendship, steady and grounding. “It’s just my royal fold,” he murmurs, voice low, almost apologetic. “My new shadows. A form of protection detail that feels more like an annoyance than actual security.” His sigh is resigned, but even in resignation I notice there’s a quiet authority, the kind that makes people obey without question. The driver veers off the main road, tires crunching over gravel as the car swings into a vast open field. The horizon bristles with jets and helicopters, their metallic bodies gleaming beneath the late sun. I’d assumed we were headed to John Wayne Airport, but clearly, that was a mistake, this is a private tarmac. Israfil steps out first, the wind tugging at his jacket, his short dark hair gleaming under the sunset. He moves with effortless precision, every gesture deli
Thank you for reading! :) See you in the next chapter ;)
Maryelle The pale yellow walls of my room seem to close in, suffocating, shrinking. My pulse drums in my ears, panic rising like a tide I can’t push back. I stagger away from my desk, limbs unsteady, breath shallow. The screen—now black—still feels like it’s screaming at me. Phantom was attacked. Phantom was hurt. Phantom might be— No. I grip the edge of my bed, forcing air into my lungs. My hands tremble as I fumble for my phone, dropping it twice before clutching it against my chest. My heart beats like a warning, a clock ticking down to something I can’t stop. Breathe, Maryelle. Phantom can handle himself. He’s strong. He’s alive. I repeat the words like a prayer, like an anchor keeping me from drowning. But every unanswered call chips away at that fragile hope. ****** I spend the next hour dialing—again and again—until my phone dies in my hands. “Dinner’s in five minutes.” Mom’s voice cuts through my frantic search for car keys as I fly past her in
Omg the chaos 😭 Phantom are you okay, Boo? And what type of spell did Lomi’s boy, Kaziel just cast?? Thank you so much for reading. See you in the next chapter, my loves! :)
The sun sets. Captivated, I watch its buttery haze disappear behind the clouds in pretty shades of blue, purple, and splotches of gold. It reminds me of the sunsets back home at Falls Quaker and briefly takes my mind off being stuck in Rome, Georgia. I glance at Al’s bed and wonder what the next fe
“This is not Australia.”“You're a genius, Maryelle—too clever for the world,” my mother deadpans.“Mom, what the heck! You said we were going on a summer vacation. You were taking me to Australia and Rome. Again, I have to point out that this place looks like neither.” I hadn’t been suspicious whe
In the club, the music pounds against the speakers like an angry woodpecker trying to demolish a tree. Al yells her order over the noise, and the bartender hands her two shots in return. She shoves one in my direction, and before I can decline, a guy jumps in front of me and shoves the glass filled
Despite the mountain lion scare, Phantom and I spend the next couple of weeks moving through summer as if it were stitched just for us. Each moment with him eclipses the last, and the way he treats me makes him feel less like a prince of bloodlines and more like the kind of prince carved out of dre







