Alpha Noah
I can’t get these drawings out of my head, so someone else needed to hear about this.
“I’m not overreacting,” I say pointedly, setting the few wrinkled drawings atop my desk. “No one in their right mind should be depicting such images. I don’t know what it is, but it rubs me the wrong way.”
Cian lounges back in my bed, resting his head on his hands. At least today he has dressed to fit in appropriately, instead of that immortal attire he adorns so regularly. If there is one aspect of his life I cannot adopt through being his mate, is the often brightly coloured, eccentric outfits. He’s gone for darker colours today, which I can appreciate.
Bab Populer