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Attacked in the Night
Petsa ng paglalathala:
2023-06-10 01:29:19
Pinakabagong kabanata
The Alpha King's Breeder The Principate
FallonZayn holds my gaze for several aching seconds. I can almost feel him inside my head, and I hate how scared of him I feel right now. I have no idea who he is. I had no idea he was this powerful. Who the fuck is he? Tears slip free and wet my cheeks. The little boy kneels at Zayn’s feet, facing the young woman I assume is his mother, and bows his head like an execution is something he was prepared for. “Zayn,” I mouth, terrified, my voice refusing to work. His name cracks over my tongue. I might be imagining the way his eyes twinkle with emotion before they darken to murderous intent once again. “Please.”He turns back to the throne and the rows below, ignoring the numerous, disfigured bodies and body parts strewn across the tiles. The Grand Wizard fumes, fury shining bright behind his dark eyes as he grips his staff–the head of which is an odd orb of some kind that whispers a deep, dark blue kind of magic. “You are not welcome here, hybrid filth!”“On the contrary,” Zayn cut
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Fallon“Let me go!” I screech, digging in my heels. My useless satin slippers–which perfectly match my dress, I might add–slip over wide, flat tiles of the deepest gray, jagged grout-lines tearing holes in the cork heels. I kick out when the men tighten their grip hard enough to leave bruises. I can feel their touch in my bones, pinching the bones of my wrists together in a way that makes me bite back shrieks of pain. “Shut up,” one of the men whines, jostling me. I’ve already looked them each in the eye when they dragged me up an exterior staircase that led from the beach to the palace, when all the while I tried to make myself as slack and heavy as possible to stall their progress. I will never forget their faces. Never.My complaints fall on deaf ears. My reassertions that I am, in fact, the royal princess of Eastonia–heir to my mother–a certified psychopath who will, for sure, hunt me down and leave bloodshed in her wake when she finds out about this–doesn’t change a Goddess-damn
The Alpha King's Breeder Something Stupid
FallonAn Hour Earlier… I’ve always wanted to use the mirror. It’s off limits for good reason. My mom was the last person to use it, and she practically destroyed it. I smooth my fingers over the rough bands of crystal growing over shards of shattered glass, creating an even kaleidoscope-like surface reflecting the deepest shades of onyx. “Are you sure about this?” Naomi asks behind me, holding a grimoire. Her powers of fire and light illuminate the pages within already, without her even opening the heavy, leather-bound book. “I am.” I have to be. I have to shove Zayn’s annoying, blistering voice out of my head and let fate take over. “Let's do it.”“But what happens when you get there?”I turn to look at her, putting on a brave face, even though I’m truly beginning to spiral. A little voice in my head asks me if I’ve actually thought this through. I likely haven’t. I’m definitely jumping to conclusions. I’m for sure doing something dumb and irreversible. I know, in my heart, that
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FallonNaomi cups her knees while I pace to and from the window in our favorite sitting room, in my suite, which adjoins hers. The shared door is open, and beyond, a flurry of maids quickly unpack her suitcases and trunks. “Tell me again. In detail.”“There’s not much else to say. Mom got a summons from Uncle Sydney. We had to travel to Crescent Falls last night, and now we’re back, and Mom’s turning around again to go to Maatua with a highly specialized selection of our royal forces.”“Because KiloKilo is threatening to attack?” I spit, furious. “I told everyone this would happen.”“In her defense, you did say you’d go to KiloKilo and marry some rando you’ve never met.”“This would have happened, regardless.” I smooth my hands over the bodice of my cream-colored gown with butter yellow trim–one of my all-time favorites. “I told them. I was right. I knew KiloKilo was up to something. I could have been there by now, ensuring peace between our Kingdoms. This never needed to happen. I w
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ZaynI hate to admit that Fallon won this time. It took approximately two minutes of threats while waving around my employee file for me to find myself on the edge of my unmade bed with Fallon standing between my knees, her dainty hand gripping my shoulder to keep me still. She danced around the fact that she knows I’m not originally from the Roguelands. She made it clear that she’s under the impression I want my background, whatever it is, kept secret, which is why my file is so thin, and several important chunks on most forms have been left blank on purpose. Her parents didn’t seem to care, but Fallon does. She made a single promise to never ask about my past as long as I’d allow her to fix me up. So I agreed, even if her touch feels like a cool kind of fire–something foreign–something that threatens to undo everything I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t ever consider having for myself. “Stop moving. I can see your skull,” she snaps, dabbing the wound with pure rubbing alcohol. I ca
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