CHOSEN BY THE CURSED ALPHA KING
NIGHT OWLwhy i hate my mother booki hate my familyi hate my momrevenge is sweet, my family is nothing
Emilia gasped, her hands rising slightly as though to catch the sight in her palms.
“This is… beautiful,” she whispered, more to herself than to me.
She stepped forward quickly, her shoes crunching against the grass, and then—without hesitation—she slipped them off and dipped her bare feet into the water. Her shoulders relaxed instantly, her entire body seeming lighter as the ripples spread around her ankles. She turned, smiling, her eyes alight.
“Come,” she called.
I stood rigid, my arms crossed. “No.”
Her nose wrinkled in mock displeasure. “What do you mean, no?”