SinclairLong lashes flutter, revealing the cerulean depths that have ensnared my thoughts. As a wet, golden strand of hair tickles her nose, her delicate fingers instinctively sweep it aside, those perfectly sculpted lips parting in a sigh that brushes against the edges of my consciousness.My gaze remains fixed, eyes tracing every contour of her form, tracking every movement.She is unaware of my presence. She'd cursed me to hell if she knew I was watching her wipe the water off her naked body, but how could I not when she is the epicenter of my obsession?I'm perched on the rooftop of the home opposite hers. If she cared enough to look out the window, she'd find me. I'm almost tempted to toss a rock into her room to announce my presence. She looks quite fetching when she's mad.I dropped her off not long ago, leaving her with a chaste kiss to the cheek. My dick tightens in my pants when I recall her soft fingers cupping my cheek as she returned the soft kiss.Flying fuck,

Ithaca.Ray got me tickets yesterday after a long, heart to heart—which was mostly me crying and trying to explain what the word Erasthai meant. As well as where I came from. She’d looked at me like I had another head the entire time.She didn’t say I was crazy. She didn’t need to. Her expression spoke volumes on what she chose to believe. That there are no other realms that exist other than this one and I had loose screws in my head.I told her about Alaric too.It was then she had called back home and asked her mother if I could stay with her and her siblings for a couple of weeks. . .or months. Until I was fine again. Until I could keep it together. Until I was healed enough to come back. Until I could hear HIS name without feeling Ezra’s pain that has me in such pain, I can’t breathe or function when she wails for what is lost.I don’t think I’ll ever be fine, but I didn’t tell Ray that. Her mother hadn’t objected and I could’ve sworn the woman even sounded excited about having me

GinevraThe wedding's tomorrow.I've been locked up in Alaric's home for two days. He has my foot chained to his bed, and my hands cuffed apart.Why?Because the moment I'd awoken to him trying to touch me, I fought like a cornered animal, desperate to rip him apart.I'm only let out of the chains when I need to attend to my needs, and even then, on the first day, I tried more times than I can remember to jump through the window, after knocking out the guards he'd sent to watch me.It had earned me being thrown into his room with windows too little for even my arm to go through, and shorter chains.But that was a day ago, before he'd returned with the news of Sinclair's death. I didn't want to believe him, until he'd dumped Sinclair's bloodied shirt in my bed as a souvenir. At first, I'd been consumed by hysteria and grief. I'd screamed for hours until I'd lost my voice, cursing my existence, making demands that he kill me so I could die as well.I didn't think I cared enough,

GinAstrid comes for me a little after midnight, sneaking into my room with the stealth of a phantom thief. It makes me wonder just how many times she's done this.She tosses me a cloak and gently pushes the window open, her gaze scanning the darkness beyond. "I'll go ahead, scout the area, and signal with a rock if it's safe."I nod and Before she could leap out the window, I grabbed her arm, giving it a slight squeeze. "Thank you."A rare smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and a glint of silver dances in her blue eyes. "Don't go soft on me, Gin. This doesn't mean I like you."My lips twitch. "Likewise."Covering her flaming red hair with a black hood, she leaps out the window, dropping graceful, without a sound. She disappears into the night and I lean against the window, heart thundering in my chest as I anxiously wait for her signal.My eyes scans the darkness outside, searching for any sign of Astrid. Each passing second feels like an eternity as I strain to catch a glimp

*Sinclair*My father left when I was fifteen. His presence before than was fleeting. He'd disappear for weeks, sometimes months, without a word about his whereabouts.And when he came around, it only lasted for a few hours. That was how long they allowed visitors in the boarding school.His name? I never bothered to ask, never had enough curiousity to ponder on it either. Too happy that he even graced me with his presence, I would forget to ask the important questions.I'd only noticed he was truly gone when he'd stopped visiting. I'd found out some time later that he'd left me behind a fortune and a letter.I'd been more interested in the letter, having been a fool of a boy who yearned to be acknowledged by the only man he ever truly admired.But my father's letter only had one sentence scrawled on it. *Live, Norman.*"We're going around in circles," Naomi remarks, pulling me out of memory lane. She casts a pointed look at a mark she'd etched onto a tree an hour ago.Ray plops down o