Saved by the Alpha
Arsel stood still and then burst into such a loud, free laugh that it filled me with pride.
That night we made hot chocolate. Arsel insisted on putting in too much cinnamon, and I feigned indignation. Then we sat in front of the fireplace, wrapped in blankets. He read me an old book about legends of fairies, wolves, and lost goddesses. I tried to pay attention, but his voice was too warm and our bond too new.
Every so often I sensed something of his, an emotion, a desire, and sometimes fear for me.
“I’m not going to disappear,” I said calmly, and he stopped reading.
Bab Populer