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I Forgive You--I Think
Tanggal publikasi:
2023-06-01 23:47:37
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The Alpha King's Breeder Everything Is a Mess
ZaynJason, barefoot with his cotton trousers rolled up past his ankles and the top buttons of his shirt undone, moves into the shade of a large palm tree and sinks onto the grass where Tali and I are already situated. He passes a bottle of beer to me and then hands one to Tali. Undone is a good way to describe Jason right now–in more ways than one. Tali’s golden eyes hold mine for a few seconds before he leans forward and nudges Jason on the knee. Jason, unaccustomed to not only being touched, but conversing openly in general, flinches away. He casts Tali an apologetic glance and drinks deeply from his beer. Meanwhile, I’m watching the scene on the beach just outside my house–my castle. Fallon stands beside Cathy, the two of them deep in conversation, while the three boys–Andy, Gracen, and Koa–dart in and out of the surf. Fallon has already been in and out of the water several times testing the swimsuit Cathy was able to conjure, along with an array of other clothing items that w
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FallonWhile the tunic and what I believe might be considered capris on a taller person fit well and look somewhat decent, I can’t escape the heinous sandals that followed me from the inn in… Toppifaire? Yes, that was the name of the portside village. I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror in Zayn’s–our–dressing room, which is empty. Totally, completely empty, like whatever life he lived here before was completely cleared out during the six years he was masquerading as a knight in the Allied Kingdoms. I’m too hungry to fret over my tangled hair and my overall appearance. Normally, I’d have my hair brushed, styled, and out of my face entirely when leaving. An intricate skincare routine and a few swipes of makeup would follow before I donned whichever gown tickled my fancy. I frown at myself, shake my head, and surrender to island living–which is very laid back, at least so far. My ugly sandals clack loudly, echoing off the walls, while I follow Zayn, who’s dressed very w
The Alpha King's Breeder We're Alone Here
FallonZayn fell asleep the second he returned from the ensuite bathroom, teeth brushed, hair combed, whatever else he does during his nightly routine. While he snoozes with his back to me, practically hanging off the far side of the massive bed that could easily fit five full-sized men side to side, I sit here, twiddling my thumbs, not sleepy in the slightest after wasting an entire day with an epically painful migraine. I doubt Zayn’s a heavy sleeper. I’m sure he’ll wake up with a jolt if I so much as breathe too hard, so after trying and failing to force my body back to rest, I slink out of bed in the early hours of the morning when, under normal circumstances, a house of this size and rank would be quietly alive with the earliest of the day’s preparations. Instead of maids hurrying from room to room, and a kitchen bustling with steam and the first heavy scents of breakfast being made, I’m met by silence. It’s not heavy or eerie. It’s a calm, sea-kissed kind of peace that follow
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FallonI wake from a state that’s similar to what I assume a coma would feel like at exactly 9:47 P.M. I have no idea what day it is, or, quite frankly, where I am. I have very few memories of much beyond that amazing dinner and a salt breeze before my brain split in half. I sit up, blinking into a totally dark, but regal, room that curves in nearly a circle. A few doors catch strips of moonlight beaming through six arched windows, all of which are open to the sound of waves rolling against a nearby shore. For a moment, I feel transported to Maatua, but this place has none of the modern charm of the beach houses my family shares. Marble columns stretch toward the ceiling, and even in the moonlight, I can tell the room is decorated in shades of sand, with pale blues and greens–very beachy and serene, indeed. I am, thank the Goddess, without a doubt, no longer in Meccana. I slide out of bed and immediately spot a new shift and matching robe draped over a nearby armchair, which mean
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ZaynA calm, tropical breeze ruffles the fabric of my black cotton shirt. It’s loose, airy, and a far cry from the armor I’ve been wearing for three years. I’m not used to the fit, nor the feeling of the air on my skin. Nor the salt-scented breeze that ripples through fine mesh curtains lifting from the open-air archways that line the entire south-facing side of the room. A room that belongs to the Alpha King of the Packs of Meridem. I have vivid memories of standing in this room holding my mother’s hand while she conversed with her father, my maternal grandfather, Papa–the Alpha King who effectively cut ties with the Grand Wizard and whose reign ushered in a new era of pirating that allowed the packs to spread out along the archipelagos and island clusters far south of Meccana. Papa had one thing that worked in his favor–the Alexandrite mines. Meridem, as an island system, is the richest source of Alexandrite, which the wizards have long used to strengthen their magic. It’s hard to
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FallonLuna. I shake my head at my reflection in the stainless steel-framed mirror in my stateroom aboard The Alyssa, which is, in fact, an impressive cargo ship with several floors dedicated to guests. It’s nothing like the yachts in my family’s arsenal, but it’s comfortable, nonetheless, if not a little stale and gray. We’ve been bobbing off the coast of Toppifaire for the past three hours, and I’m getting bored. I tuck my hair behind my ears, considering going to figure out what’s going on, when a horn blasts somewhere high above me, sending a rattle through the ship from top to bottom. I jolt, accidentally scratching my cheek with my nail, and murmur a rather colorful curse while blotting the bloody mark with a handful of tissue. This is not what I signed up for when KiloKilo first sent the inquiry about a marriage between me and the man they referred to as “one of their princes.” Oh, if I could go back and look myself in the eyes–maybe shake myself back to rationality–I would.
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