The King’s Obsession
Almost every time I worry, because without him, I'm not sure what I would do.
The door opens right as I'm in the middle of a good part of my book. Glancing up, Marek wanders in, his clothes and skin entirely drenched in blood. It runs down his neck, his arms and his front.
My eyes widen in fright. "Marek!"
"I'm sorry about the blood. But we have dinner for the next two weeks out there," he says, motioning through the door. I know beyond, in the darkness, Marek has hung up some kind of animal he hunted.
Hot Chapters