He is beautiful.The kind of beauty you only see on social media photos that have been augmented several times.His little eyes are shut, but his chest rises and falls with such a rhythm that lulls me to calmness.I love the white of his lashes and hair; they add an etherealness to him that, sadly, is too familiar with Marko.If I do decide to keep him, I would have to go quite far so that they never meet.My nose moves to his chest before his little arms stretch, pushing me slightly off his frame, and the breathing resumes.It had been two days since Kaisa had mentioned Marko was close; perhaps I got my hopes too high up in expecting him to be here in haste.Still, I find solace in this space that she pulls me to.Simply watching ‘ugly’ perform the most mundane of tasks clumsily takes away any anxiety staking its claim on me.Even now, I cannot feel the pain that thumps through my jaw, arm or cheek present while I am awake.The removal of the mark is taking longer than the Alpha of R
My body prowls low on the ground, I say mine, but truthfully it does not feel like my own. There is a slight pain in my joints that one typically associates with old age, a whiteness on my fur, and warmth on my paws. I am in the forest, whereas seconds ago, I was in a car. The body holds memories I cannot account for. I have never been in a body that was not my own or Markos, yet as if I am seeing the future; I have no control over this as well. A low growl startles the body to hyper-alertness, causing its vision to spin from corner to corner until, finally, two wolves reveal themselves. Ketrian warriors. The body realises with dread that creeps in. ‘Where is the Queen?’ One of them, the grey one, asks while the other snarls with open hostility. The body snarls back; something in it does not or rather cannot answer. I feel their sense of loyalty towards their pack and alpha, even if they do not understand the fullness of the actions they commit. ‘We need her more; we are losin
Marko’s harsh landing on the car’s engine caused the hood to cave in, halting the car instantly. A mistake, he realised belatedly when the car’s contents, Alba included, rocked forward due to inertia, but something held her back.Relief filled him at that ‘something’, even though it did not save the driver as an airbag popped, bending his neck quite awkwardly.He didn’t care.The car was inches from flying off the cliff; if the crash hadn’t killed him, he would have done it personally.For a moment, he let the night wash over him as her scent filled the air.He could smell the pharmaceutics lacing her blood, but through his bond, her aliveness pulsated.He had finally found his heart after days of fighting, days of killing, days of reeking, nothing but blood that did not belong to him.His hands reached for the car’s roof, prying it open as one would the lid of a can.Her pulse was the first thing he reached for, but her neck was bandaged with a few bruises scouring her cheek, eyes an
Marko’s gaze turned left to right before confirming that the question was meant for him. “They-” He began, confused by the sense of authority she held over him. “They are not your people! Red Graw is not where you belong!” He uttered. Had his mark been replaced? Had he failed to catch her in the nick of time that she would refer to them as ‘her’ people? “Not where I belong.” She repeated with a light laugh that seemed to echo in the open space. “A thousand lifetimes, and my moon has still not learned to love or control his temper.” Her words filled him with a sense of melancholy that he could not place. “Every wolf kind is my own.” She uttered before stretching her hand, palm upwards. A light shot from her palm that pierced the smoke clouds filling the sky. Within seconds, the light widened, covering everything before it vanished, and the sky remained clear for a few moments before dark clouds followed at high momentum. The glowing Alba stepped down from the podium with r
His mouth moved, but nothing came. She had said once that he reminded her of Red Graw or something along those lines, but…surely things were different between them. He genuinely loved her; unlike those examples the fragment gave. As if sensing his hesitation, she continued. “I do this hurtful thing to you because I love you…because I want to protect you because you cannot do this on your own because you need me to think for you, to save you. Because you are not capable. Because you are weak. Because I Love you. Because I love you. Because…I love you.” She uttered in the silence that followed, leaving him, for the first time in his life, speechless. His mind racked hastily to find words that would defend him. “I would never hurt Alba in the way the Alpha did.” He uttered. “I would never justify violence against her or leave marks on her.” “Mm…you would never hurt her. You would never leave marks on her.” She repeated. “Why not say you would never hit her or leave visible ma
“I am fine, Marko. You don’t need to visit me every day.” I utter for the nth time as he strokes my hand over his. He has been oddly clingy of late, a part of me believes that he thinks I will leave in the middle of the night or transform into someone else, all possibilities, but it could just be that he is under stress; after all, thirty-six of our warriors were declared dead, while another two missing in action, all in the chaos that ensued in Red Graw. In other words, all because of me. I hate to say or think it, but his life will definitely be a lot easier without me in it. Then what of ‘ugly’? Will I burden him too? Marko’s silver eyes peer at me for a good long while, so I smile. A part of me wants to welcome him on my hospital bed so we lay together at least before we have to face the future, yet, another does not want him to stay too long. I do not want him to show me sides of himself that I will miss. “Do not worry; I will be with you during the national funeral tomo
The tightness of my black dress does not ease the hole in my chest. Sharon has declared me healthy; she has neither spotted nor noticed anything odd. Kaisa has come back to me, but the feeling of Jax in my arms, rapidly losing warmth, has not left me. Then again, neither have the nightmares, the constant vigilance even in situations that don’t require it, and the flinching every time someone mentions Red Graw. It is as if the kidnapping was not the worst part; my body still does not register that I am safe. Am I safe? Safe from assassination attempts and from more suicidal drivers? Good god, I used to own a boutique in simplicity; my only danger was catching feeling and now… cannot even sleep. Violet’s hand laces in mine before she rests her head on my shoulder. “I am sorry.” I whisper. I do not know why, but I feel as though I betrayed our friendship either by having the powers he wanted or introducing them when we first moved to the city together. Then again, killing him sho
The car pulls up to the entrance of the warrior funeral home, which is disrespectfully surrounded by a sea of reporters looking for their daily scoop. The adjustment of my black dress after I step out of the car and into the cool crisp morning air is quick; the press makes it mandatory, for I have no wish to flash the entire world. ‘Your majesty….” “Your majesty, any word to the bereaved!” “Your majesty, any lament about healing those killers!” ‘Your majesty healing the kidnappers is a sign of Stockholm syndrome…” “Your majesty…” Your majesty…” “When is the wedding…” “Your majesty...” The guards make quick work of providing a smooth path for me to walk on as I hold Violet’s hand and do my best to avoid or not take any of the questions personally. Unfortunately, the ‘smooth’ path is not flash or soundproof, so the annoyances continue until we reach the reception, which is oddly and soothingly quiet. “Your majesty.” Again, that burdening title. “Yes?” I turn to the attenda
And that’s a wrap. The book will be marked as complete soon; I hope you loved both stories, the bonus ( ̄y▽ ̄)╭ ohohoho….. and the main story. Now on the meat of the matter, my next work will be out in late June or Mid-July titled: The Alpha's Ruby Obsession (I think, but most likely.) It will be 18+, not just because of the smut but because it is a little darker than this one, discussing themes to do with suicidal ideations and consent-non-consent relations, but don’t worry, I will tag the concerning chapters. It can be read as a stand-alone, but there are benefits to reading this book first. Lastly, this concerns my other book: Your last lie—please do not purchase it until perhaps next year (Late next year); it was my first book and thus very clumsy, I want to work on it, and if you have it in your library, you can remove it and select it later, the changes should reflect. Thank you for reading and voting for ‘Bound to My Wicked Stepbrother’. I would love to hear more from you; whe
TRIGGER WARNING: CONSENT. The pounding in my head trembles my vision. Christ, I am never drinking again. My struggle to change my position and take advantage of the day is met with a familiar stiffness; only the rattling sounds binding me send my eyes wide open. An unfamiliar room, brightly lit with top wall windows that ensure I cannot see outside, but enough light enters that I can see thousands upon thousands of pictures of me lining the walls. Hah... what the hell? Panic sets in low in my belly as struggle finds my limbs. I do not wish to scream; who knows what I will alert, but the rattling of the cuffs binding my hands and feet to the bed must have awoken something because movement sounds from the other side, beyond the dark staired hallway. It would have been easy to sit upright had it only been my hands bound, but both my hands and feet were chained to the bed, holding me indecently in place and... My clothes are different. "You are up? Good, I brought you some food.
He isn’t coming. I repeat to myself as I splash some more warm water on my face. Ugh, what the hell was that sickly sweet champagne Magnolia guzzled down my throat in ‘celebration’? If she wants me to be drunk and embarrass myself, all she has to do is say that. A sigh escapes me at my tired expression in the bathroom mirror. My face is flushed, yet despite how tipsy I am, the hurt from seeing him arrive with his ‘ex-fiancée’ cut too deep to be blurred with liquor. Ever since the production ended, I woke up to sex dreams where Marko would bind me, trap me somewhere and have his way with me mercilessly. Of course, I would plead that he free me because, let’s face it, I would only plead that he does not touch me so that I could be regarded as sane. Because who in the hell would want to be bound and f*cked mercilessly by someone who all but regarded them as a slut? Guilt always devours me at the end of the vulgar dreams, I guess they are about to worsen now that he is with his ex-f
Marko "Cut”. The director's voice rang for what would be the last time, and applause followed. The moment was bittersweet, but the feel of Alba detaching from him as if he was plagued stung. "Alb-" "Don't...don't say anything, Marko. Let this end." "I don’t want-" "Don't want that?" Again, she interrupted him, finishing his sentence when he did not wish her to. "Marko, you called me a slut a few weeks ago, so let this 'slut' reform her ways, a safe distance from you.” “I never said you were a slut.” “No, you merely said that I spread my legs for anyone who gives me the time of day; if your argument is on semantics, try again." Alba uttered as she moved from him, but her dress, the same ivory gown that stole his chest as she walked down the Aisle, making him wish that for a moment the scene was real and she was his bride, made her curse as she moved. "God damn heels!" She muttered before leaving him...again. Should he manipulate her transport? No, she might not fall for
The ballroom echoed its commotion at Marko’s announcement of me as his future wife and Milos as his heir. I should cease wearing fitting gowns that limit my breathing during balls that I anticipate trouble. Still, his hand on my waist is more intense in this way, even as some show their distaste for our relationship vocally, despite our mention that we were mates chosen by the goddess. The tea party was brutal, but this, having to look in the eyes of hundreds of unsmiling faces as if our lives impacted them more than was appropriate, was a whole other thing. Despite all this, my proximity to Marko keeps me uncaring; but I cannot stop my chest’s clenching. Unlike me, he has cared how others viewed him since his youth, and he has always wanted to be a regal and dignified king framed by perfection. Am I not staining him? Please don't change your mind. Please want me still. Please- A tremble rocks through me at the thoughts chanting ceaselessly in my mind, so I step away from Mark
"Ahh...that hits the spot."Ruby utters as she places her pitcher of cider beer on the table with a thud. Without missing a beat, she turns to the table grill and turns the thinly sliced steaks before they burn.It was amusing watching her eat, actually more than amusing; I keep growing envious of her appetite.Still, how were the Clive illegitimate children treated for her to behave this similarly to Violet and me?While I like her playful maturity, we understand the scars that made us this way.After explaining my dream as the ‘sun’ to her (I am not sure if she believes me or thinks I am crazy), we settle and enjoy each other’s company at the eatery that offers each table a small grill and a wide selection of meats for one to fry up themselves if they do not wish for any item from the precooked menu.It took quite a bit of patience, but I finally finished the steak Violet made for me; it is hard to avoid eating when everything around me smells delicious; hell, even the smoke smelled
The woman’s voice holds remorse so deep that it stills me momentarily; it is only when tears stream down her face, ruining her perfect make-up, that I try my hardest to squat in the tightness of my dress and hold her in my arms, for God knows what reason.A feeling I had not felt since Red Graw dances in my chest."My Su-""I am sorry for the way it ended, my dearest misunderstood crimson moon."My lips utter with a voice that comes from deep within me before a smile tilts the corners of my lips upwards.Despite the smile playing on my face, a deep heaviness feels my chest.“It shall awaken soon; find your centre, my precious blood moon; only then will you find peace.” The moment her head slumps heavily on my shoulders, the ‘enchanted’ feeling dissipates from me before I feel her stiffen in my arms."Oh...oh, you must think I am insane."She whispers through my flesh before she peals away from me, hiding the crimson covering her face.“Help me up?”She asks her chauffeur, who assists
“That’s like saying I do not care for my skin.”The girl Violet converses with responds.“I am not responsible for how you choose to interpret my words.”Christ, Violet.I almost groan, but Georgia yells a question impolitely at me."Is that a ring? Are you engaged, priestess?" Silence follows the words; even the blonde, who almost responded to Violet’s taunt, turns her attention to me.“That’s right; you said you would discuss it inside,”Rebeca chimes.Hesitation echoes within me, I thought I would be amongst friends as I open up about this tender subject, but instead, I feel as if I am-"Yes, uh...I am getting married."I announce into the silence, and gasps follow from the majority of the lips but Rebecca’s."Oh! The Lycan King was carrying a baby in his arms in the papers, perhaps a week back. Was the baby yours? I mean, you did go missing for years after the whole Red Graw saga. Did they… I mean, is that why you are being removed from the royal line."Georgia asks; her brashnes
As opposed to an elegant parlour room, Rebecca escorts us outside to a greenhouse-like place that holds numerous colourful and bright plants that add to the bright aesthetic of the party, and despite being outside, the scent of pastries and tea hang deliciously in the air.My gaze turns to the nearby pond, and it is so clear that I can see my reflection in it, but more than that, I can see the tiredness in Rebecca’s build.I guess all the Clive relatives, regardless of association, had a tough time after Magnolia’s treason.The deeper we walk into the space, the more the sound of laughter and chatter calls to us only; it is not as inviting as she had once presented during the mate ball.“About Magnolia…”I begin, but she turns so suddenly on her track that I wind up trailing my words.“Oh, we are fine. Our relation is only from the maternal side.”What the hell is that supposed to mean?Does it matter from which side your cousins hail?“Anyway, I saw today’s papers; how are you holdin