Semua Bab THE ALPHA'S ADDICTION: Bab 611 - Bab 620

Esther awoke to a cacophony of distant sounds, muffled and indistinct. Her mind, emerging from the dense fog of unconsciousness, struggled to piece together the fragments of memory and sensation. The room around her was sterile, unfamiliar—a stark contrast to the dimly lit room she vaguely remembered before slipping into darkness.As her eyes fluttered open, she realized she was lying in a bed, surrounded by the soft hum of magic and the occasional shuffle of footsteps outside her room. Above her, through the thin veil of drowsiness, she could make out the muted sounds of celebration—voices raised in joy, distant cheers. Yet, comprehension eluded her; the jubilation seemed out of place, disconnected from her current reality. What was happening? Who had cocooned her in magic?Esther's thoughts were sluggish, as if encased in molasses. She tried to recall how she had ended up here, why the people above her was shouting, why she was below them. Images flickered in her mind like a stutter

“Derek, what are you doing here?!” Melvina screamed for the rest of the people in the room, who had the same thought in mind. She took it a step further, by standing up from the sofa, and hurrying toward her son, whose eyes kept opening and closing, out of weariness. He shouldn’t be awake. He shouldn't be here. Whatever magic that Lucille had knocked him out with, unintentionally, had shut down his organs. It was likened to when an ancient wanted to go to sleep underground; except that theirs was intentional, not abrupt like Derek’s. He was in a coma, and hadn’t been expected to be awake and conscious, in charge of his mind, for at least a month. And yet, here he was, lying on the couch with a notable smirk, despite the weariness that clouded his face. Melvina couldn’t believe it. “How….” She shut her mouth, and turned to look at the ancients, and Margo. ‘How is he awake?’ was outlined clearly in her eyes. Sadly, the group had no answer for her. However, Margo stood up and saunt

Three Days Later:Emma walked beside Gira, and behind Prince Shiloh, as the duo accompanied her to her classes. She inhaled deeply intermittently during the walk, to calm her fraying nerves, to still her busy mind. It had taken her two days to fully recuperate from the expanse of energy she had meted out, both during her journey here, and during the duel with the professors. She wondered how the duo was doing now. Did they still have the dignity to be teaching before their students? She didn’t care. She only cared that during these three days, her friends and her sister hadn’t woken up. She had kept up with checking up on them daily, despite Prince Shiloh’s lame threats to keep her confined for a month for moving around, instead of resting. She looked at the back of his head, as he strolled confidently in front of her, and tried to guess his age. She couldn’t. She knew better, however, not to assign an age to him, based on his looks. She was in the supernatural world now; she could

No professor spoke to her, and Emma couldn’t help but wonder why. Had Prince Shiloh ask them to avoid her? Or had professor Brooks’ defeat scared them away from her? Well, if that was the matter, then she believed it was for the greater good. She had no interest in making affiliations after all, so long as they taught her what she wanted to know, and treated her fairly. “So, do you think you can cope?” She heard Adah ask, and turned aside to see her new seat mate. The mischievous glint in the latter’s eyes made her smile, howbeit small. “I believe I can.” She answered, before getting on her feet. She took her bag which Gira had provided that morning and slung the straps across her shoulder. It was time to go home, or rather check on her friends. Classes were done for the day. “Where are you going?” Adah asked her, getting to her feet. As they walked toward the door, a couple of the students swiftly moved, and stood before the door, causing Emma to furrow her eyebrows. But she chose

At Wind Winders Pack.“Dad, what is this? What was Zoe doing in my room so early in the morning?” Curtis questioned, a second after he rushed into the dining room where his parents were having breakfast. He had slept in obviously, but he didn’t care. Yesterday’s training had been rigorous after all. He darted his eyes between his mother and father; his mother’s widened eyes told him that she had no idea what he was talking about; quite expected since this turn of event hadn’t been part of their plans. Hence, he trained his eyes on his father; the old man just continued eating his breakfast like he hadn’t spoken. Curtis thought of repeating himself, but thought better of it. He walked up to his father, and took away his plate of food; an act that he wouldn’t have been able to try before; an act that might have spelt his death; but considering his father’s few options of allies, he knew that he had a chance to live. And so, when his father glared at him heatedly, he didn’t quake in hi