ARTEMIS’ POVAgain and again, they try to convince me, showering me with words of praise for my performance, showing their gratitude for the presence I’ve graced them with, and ending every sentence with 'reconsider.'It makes me wonder if this approach has always worked with my father. A few words of praise, some flattery, and he would simply cave to their demands.I wouldn't be surprised.He’s always been the type to go soft over vain things that tickle his fancy, as long as he receives the reverence he desires from his subjects.But I don't give in, choosing not to ignore the clear discrimination just to please them. I ponder how this case would have ended if Sera and I hadn't intervened when we did.Finally, they give up, walking away and grumbling silently.Mr. Franklin steps forward towards me once the path is clear, a look of gratitude on his face.“I want to give my thanks again. You have no idea what you've done for my family and people. We've faced years of biased treatment
SERAPHINA’S POVI stare down at Artemis's sleeping face, resting on my thighs, running my fingers through his soft and silky black hair. It feels impossibly light and soft as I trace my fingers gently across the lines of his face.I can’t help but feel bad for him, having to hear about his mother’s condition from someone else, and from none other than Kamila’s father, no less, while his own father kept such important news from him.In the end, we made a call to find out she’s stable now, but he still seemed to be in a state of shock. The look of pain on his face tortured me.I wish I could take away a portion of it or perhaps understand even a fraction of it.Having a mother and watching her remain in a vegetative state all your life – in a way, it sounds more torturous than not having one or knowing yours didn’t want you.I guess there's a sense of certainty in knowing, rather than wondering if your mother loved you.He, however, is forced to watch on, forever hoping, wondering what
SERAPHINA’S POVI reach out and knock three times on the familiar door that has been my home for the majority of my life, pulling away and nervously tucking my hands back into my pockets.Everything at the orphanage remains almost as it always was; the shape and size of it, the smell of wet sand, the never-ceasing breeze, the rustling of the willow trees around.I do notice some subtle changes, like the tiled roads leading up to the building, which used to be a muddy path dotted with puddles where children would play during rainy days.There’s the entirely new roof, replacing the old one we kept patching up with leftover wood from the furniture shops down the road, and the newly planted flower beds surrounding the house.It’s home, but a newly improved version of the home I grew up in.I’m grateful for these changes, more so knowing the smile they must have put on Miss Lucy’s face as she watched them come together, easing years of worry about the house falling apart or flooding.I’m e
SERAPHINA’S POVMy heart pounds with emotions, staring at what's in front of me: this little box that holds the potential secrets to who I am and where I come from.Answers I’ve always been desperate to run away from, that I’m now forced to face. I'm filled with anxiety, yet there's a bit of trepidation about the varying possibilities of what I could find here.Taking a deep breath, I begin to dig into it.First, there's my mint-green blanket with fraying ends, the fabric showing its age. Clearly, it was knitted by someone with menial handiwork, yet I imagine a family member, perhaps.I drop it aside, revealing everything else.The dress I wore the day I was left behind, accompanied by bright red, sewn-up shoes. A little brown teddy bear, covered with a layer of filth that makes it seem a deeper shade of gray.A storybook with the last five pages ripped out, and stacks and stacks of old newspapers added to give it bulk.My heart sinks instantly. There’s not even a single keepsake or
SERAPHINA’S POV“I can’t get my hands off you.” He confesses.“Then don’t.”His knee goes up to spread my legs apart and press against my aching core, tempting me to grind against him.And I do, like a sex-crazed whore.I grind my hips back and forth, scratching at the itch between my thighs that pushes me to the brink of insanity.He kisses my neck, then stops at my mark, grazing his teeth while flicking my nipples at the same time.The combination hits too hard.A low, animalistic growl escapes his lips, and suddenly, he lifts me, his hands wrapping around my ass and squeezing firmly, pulling a moan from me.Then, he gently places me on the creaky old furniture stored among the brooms. I whimper from fright, confused by the new position, until I feel something hard poking at my belly, subtly grinding against me.Artemis presses his hard length against me, then continues tracing, sucking, with his wet tongue over my chest, picking up from where he stopped.As he unclasps my bra, free
ARTEMIS’ POVHer body flops in my hands after another orgasm erupts out of her, and she thrashes around. For a moment, I panic, scared that I've hurt her in some way.The light rise and fall of her chest lets me know that she's fallen asleep, likely from exhaustion. I pushed her too hard on her first time, indulging myself repeatedly to satisfy my own desire when I should have been more considerate.Despite her insistent demands, I should have controlled myself, eased her into the pace and frequency gradually, not acted like some sex-deprived nymphomaniac.Guilt washes over me as I gaze at her, peacefully asleep with her lips slightly ajar and the bite marks scattered across her neck. Yet, even now, a new desire swells within me, a yearning to devour her completely.I can never get enough of her; mere sex will never suffice.I desire her to the point of madness, straining my self-control as I stare at her. It takes everything in me to stop here, to dress her again and step out of the
SERAPHINA’S POVMy eyes fly open suddenly, and I'm breathing hard and fast, as if I hadn't been breathing just a few seconds ago. I sit up too quickly, immediately regretting the abrupt movement.My body feels both heavy and light simultaneously.Every joint, where bones meet tendons and ligaments, aches terribly, pulsing with pain. I'm left wondering how I managed to fall asleep so soundly, given the discomfort.The sheer weight of exhaustion answers that question perfectly.I groan, the remnants of sleep slowly leaving my eyes as I toss and turn on a bed that seems less comfortable today. It feels almost like I'm lying on a hard floor.Then, I turn onto a surface that's warmer, that feels like skin — smooth, soft, and so comforting. It carries an addictive scent that drives me insane yet feels strangely consoling, making me want to sink into it, maybe even live in it forever, if possible.Gradually, my mind begins piecing together the fragmented memories.I don't recall falling asle
Artemis laughs, a low sexy chuckle. “Let’s have this conversation another morning when you hadn’t just passed out the night before. Now...” His eyes go back to the Astria book, and his expression turns curious. “I’ve always wondered, since I knew. What does it feel like being one? A witch. How did you find out?"I pull back and pause, hating that he’s not having it right now, but also considering his question."I don't know... It doesn't really feel different, well, unless I'm using my powers. Then it feels like a surge of energy rushing through my blood. In those moments, I feel lighter, freer, in my element.""That sounds similar to what it feels like to shift into a wolf. I feel stronger and more in tune with myself than ever. Almost like it's what I'm supposed to be most time," he reflects."Yeah, it's a rush of euphoria."If shifting was normal for wolves, then using power and magic must be normal for an Astria — a way to express and be what they were born to be. And I haven’t be