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SISTY-TWO: The Mall

Penulis: Circeleari
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-12-14 23:59:44

I wake up to cold.

Not metaphorical cold. Actual, empty-sheet cold where his heat should be.

My eyes open slowly, like I’m bracing for pain. The stone ceiling is the same. The iron torch brackets on the wall are still there. Dawn light seeps in thin and gray through the narrow window. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and sweat and something metallic I can’t quite scrub out of my nose anymore.

I reach to my right before my brain catches up.

My hand hits nothing.

The sheets are flat. Undisturbed. Cold all the way through.

My stomach drops anyway.

I sit up too fast and the room tilts for half a second. I wait for the sound of breathing. For movement. For the soft weight of him behind me. There’s nothing. Just the distant echo of guards changing shifts somewhere down the hall and the low hum of the palace waking up.

He’s gone.

Relief hits first. Sharp and guilty. My shoulders loosen without my permission.

Then something worse follows right behind it—this hollow, off-balance feeling i
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  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SIXTY-THREE: The Snow

    Snow cracks under my boots as I step out of the airport terminal in Moscow. The cold slaps my face instantly, sharp enough to sting my eyes. My fingers tighten around the strap of the worn duffel bag Judith gave me. The air tastes like metal and smoke—everyone rushing past, bundled in dark jackets, hats pulled low, no one looking twice at me.Good. I need that. I need to vanish inside a crowd.The drive to the airport is a blur of headlights and the cold slap of night air through the cracked window. My heart thuds with every twist of the road. My baby sleeps through all of it, warm and unaware against me. Judith keeps glancing at the rearview mirror like something might crawl out of the dark behind us.Maybe it would’ve, if she waited ten minutes more.At the private bay, she hugs me so tight I feel her shaking. Judith never shows fear.But tonight, her voice breaks.“This is the last time, Lilith,” she whispers. “If I don’t go back to Seattle immediately, they’ll tear apart my life t

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SISTY-TWO: The Mall

    I wake up to cold.Not metaphorical cold. Actual, empty-sheet cold where his heat should be.My eyes open slowly, like I’m bracing for pain. The stone ceiling is the same. The iron torch brackets on the wall are still there. Dawn light seeps in thin and gray through the narrow window. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and sweat and something metallic I can’t quite scrub out of my nose anymore.I reach to my right before my brain catches up.My hand hits nothing.The sheets are flat. Undisturbed. Cold all the way through.My stomach drops anyway.I sit up too fast and the room tilts for half a second. I wait for the sound of breathing. For movement. For the soft weight of him behind me. There’s nothing. Just the distant echo of guards changing shifts somewhere down the hall and the low hum of the palace waking up.He’s gone.Relief hits first. Sharp and guilty. My shoulders loosen without my permission.Then something worse follows right behind it—this hollow, off-balance feeling i

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SIXTY: Sick

    “Does it scare you?”The words don’t echo. They don’t need to. The room is already tight enough, stone walls pressing in, iron biting into the air. I don’t answer. I don’t turn around. My fingers are still curled into the torn canvas, knuckles white, nails bent backward against the frame.My lungs forget how to work.“Yes,” I say finally, because lying feels stupid when he’s this close. “Everything about this place does.”Silence.Then a sound—fabric shifting. A step backward. Space returns in inches, not relief.“This is where they keep me,” Dante says.I swallow. My throat clicks. “Keep you.”“When it starts.”My jaw tightens. I repeat it before I can stop myself. “When what starts?”“The curse.”The word lands wrong. Too plain. Too small for a room like this.I let go of the painting. The cloth drops back into place, hiding the scratches beneath it like a lie patched too late. I turn slowly, because fast feels dangerous.Dante stands near the wall, one hand braced against the iron

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  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   FIFTY-THREE: The Secret Room

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