BRAN"It was good to have you here." Corey forced a smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "This house is definitely going to feel it now that you're leaving."Bran, too, forced himself to smile when it was the last thing he felt like doing. His head was too occupied with the woman standing a few feet away from them, and also, he was worried about his friend. Corey had shut down completely after finding out that his 'mate' was not actually his mate after all, which answered a lot of questions that people—including Bran—had been asking. Actually, he was quite relieved. He didn't want to speak bad about a dead woman but he'd never really liked Ruth to begin with. She'd been a bit stiff, always complaining about something and she'd also never been interested in the things Corey liked. But since he'd believed that she was his mate and that fate could not pair one with someone that didn't suit them, he'd decided to let it go. Well, what he said about fate was definitely not true. Ta

MARIA Bran let out an 'oomph' from the impact of her body on his, but he was remarkably strong and only staggered back a step before recovering quickly and gripping her ass, hoisting her high on his body. She wasted no time in wrapping her legs around him, locking them at his back and with the leverage she now had, dragging herself up and down over his growing erection. The knot of her towel loosened and fell apart at the top which meant her breasts were now bared and her nipples dragged against the fabric of his shirt with every up and down movement she made. The sensation only made her all the more crazed and what she wanted most in that moment, was Bran's hands on her. Her hair, breasts, everywhere. What mattered was that he had his hands on her. "Touch me," she whispered against his lips, biting down on his lower lip and tugging. "Put your hands on me. Please."A ragged groan tore from Bran's chest and suddenly, his head shot forward, stealing her lips in a consuming kiss, bef

BRAN It was like people had somehow heard Bran's thoughts, that he planned to work on a future with Maria, and they—his enemies—had all set out to give him reasons why he couldn't have it. This was what Bran was thinking as he partially listened to what the man who had just entered his throne room, was saying."Can you just give me a summary of what you've been saying?" Bran cut him off, suddenly so exhausted. What he'd woken up to as a bright, beautiful, day—a day he'd felt the happiest he had in a very long time—had turned into one of the most disappointing.And it was still morning.The man's irritation was clear in his expression but Bran didn't give two fucks. He was the one that was being disturbed. Bran was the one that was being asked to give away his fucking mate, not this messenger—who was obviously a sorcerer.Speaking of, "Who let him into the castle?" Bran asked the two guards standing by the wall, just now remembering that he'd placed a ban on the Sorceri entering hi

MARIA "Maria!" Bran called and she heard the light sounds of his steps as he came towards her. She didn't turn to look at him. She didn't want to take her eyes off the cat, not even for one second, for fear that it would run away. It was a small scruffy thing with its hair going every-which-way. It had to have had an owner before because it didn't run away as she approached, even though it looked quite catious, and it had obviously been out here for a while now—from how dirty it's once probably rich white fur looked—but it was letting her get close which meant it wouldn't try to harm her, right? Kneeling on the bare sand, Maria extended her hand to it hesitantly, expecting it to cower and run away even though she didn't want it to. She exhaled in relief when it didn't, in fact, run away. It's slanted eyes dropped to her outstretched hand—her open palm to be exact—and it blinked. It's eyes lifted to hers, then it let out a little 'meow' before taking a small step towards her. Trus

BRAN"Strap her to the chairs! Hold her hands down!"A man held Maria's hand down on the wooden table and another forced her on the chair in front of it, bending to strap her legs to it while the other forced her hands to the table top. Cold fear gripped her unlike anything she had ever felt before and it paralyzed her, making her limbs weak and useless and unable to fight off the men. They were no doubt wondering why she was not fighting back, but in all honesty, she didn't care about that. She was asking herself two questions right now and why she wasn't fighting back wasn't one of them. Why were they strapping her to the table? What did they plan on doing to her? There should have probably been a third—why was her own father asking his men to handle her like that?But she knew the answer and that was precisely why she wasn't bothering to ask herself that question. Her father was cruel, hands down the cruelest man she had ever met, and he did not care whether she was his blood o