“We represent the United League of Werewolves based in Chrysalis.”The man that introduced himself as Fredric begins.“Have you heard of us?”The league was akin to the council, only they worked for all werewolves and sometimes in tandem with humans and other leagues like witches, vampires, or dragons to maintain a good relationship between the two.They were bigger than a kingdom or pack, contained mostly geniuses or highly gifted individuals, and were somewhat above laws because they were the law.After placing the flower on the eighth coffin and paying my respects, my gaze turns to the two men.They were young, far too young to be part of an organisation that has existed since the primitive years.“Go on. It might be in your best interest to speed up the conversation; after all, you only have …”I turn my gaze to my basket, and…it is still full.Great“Thirty flowers left?”Benson adds before straightening his glasses.“You give each coffin approximately two minutes, and by that ra
The sun is out now, and the day is no longer gloomy. It no longer feels as if the entire Ketria is in mourning.“What happened to your dress? Did you fall?”Marko’s question causes my gaze to move to my dress before the memory of the angry little one finds me again.A smile plays on my lips.Children are quite honest with their emotions and vulnerabilities. Will mine be like that?Christ, I am both terrified and excited.“Fall? No, I just brushed up on something.”“Here.”He says as he offers a flask and leans on one of the gravestones in the cemetery.The speech part of the ceremony is over, so most of the guests have left for the meal portion of the event in the palace.I want to ask why he is still here, but I know the answer has to be me.Either that, or my head is getting too big for my body.“What is inside?”I ask as I take the flask without awaiting his answer.“It’s a pain killer.”“A pain killer?”I repeat.“What the hell kind of painkiller is in a flask.”“What the hell kin
The grave plaque inside the royal mausoleum is a beautiful white, gold and blue. Exclusive and exquisitely fit for royalty. So why is Mother’s name still etched onto it? “I asked that you be moved outside the royal mausoleum when I requested your divorce, but I guess Ninko wanted to be buried next to you.” I utter as I shut the door of that specific slot allocated to their generation in the ancestral line. “I am going to be honest and say I could care less where you ended up. I’d probably hire people to pee on your grave too.” There is no response; of course, there isn’t. It would be a problem if there were one. “I never in my life thought I would be here. You cannot really bury the problems the dead stirred, just the dead, huh?” A sigh slips from my lips as I settle next to a white marble sarcophagus opposite Mother’s, which rests atop Ninko’s. “Dying should come with a disclaimer. deaths only solve part of the problem or the cause of the problem; the things they stir still r
"So, I tell you I'm pregnant, and the first place you take me is a nightclub?"“Technically.”Violet begins.“You said two things, that you are pregnant and that you are leaving for Chrysalis, plus this isn’t a club, it’s a lounge, and we are in the VIP section, meaning it is technically a fancy café that sells booze.”“Stay classy, Violet.”I utter, and she winks in response before raising a finger at the waiter behind me.She was right; even the lighting was bright and the music soft, unlike in a club, but in a club, I would not be recognised, whereas here, the gazes from across the room burn.For the nth time, I shift in the silk of my gown.I am not showing; hell, other than nausea, I still resemble myself; but I keep feeling as though something within me screams ‘pregnant’.Perhaps why I decided to push up my departure.I have two days left in Ketria, well considering it is eight p.m., I only have tomorrow, a day that I intend to spend with Marko.It is no coincidence that I chos
A reply to Marko’s posed question barely leaves my lips when the scent of mint and eucalyptus fills the lounge, followed by murmurs and... people bowing.He couldn't have…My denial is cut short by his sight at the VIP entrance.How did he even know where I-Ah...the bond.A path seems to have formed between him and me, for our gazes hold with too much ease.From where I stand, I can smell his shower gel. His wear is too casual for one who was working. Still, he looks far too sexy in the grey sweatpants he has on.I hate that the word 'mine’ dangles at the tip of my tongue when the women beside him flush at his mere presence.His hand pressing his phone to his ears lowers before he hangs the call and motions for me to come to him.My gaze scans for Violet, but she isn't even in the vicinity.God damn witch!With only anxiety writhing through my being, I slide my phone into my purse and comply with his request.The lounge is far too silent; even the music seems to have stopped as every
“But I shouldn’t feel this way if I am to be your mistress. In fact, I shouldn’t feel anything for you.” I utter, my hand moving to his chest. I do not know when he got this close that I can brush myself against him, or when the tension between us grew threatening. I do not even know when my eyes grew trained on the pink suppleness of his lips under the front garden lights. I do not know why he always stirs my deviancy. His scent is sharper now; I can feel it on the back of my throat despite us being outside with the cold wind blowing by. Yes, his scent’s dangerous effect on me should not excuse why my breakup with him has me pressing the sex between my thighs for relief. I want to pull him to me, to taste him, devour him; he is mine, damn it…I should be with him. especially now that I am more uncertain than ever; but then what? What lies after our next argument? Another national tragedy? Another attack or kidnapping strengthened by our inability to trust each other? What is
“A party?” “Yap, for the end of the season of the production, Magnolia is hosting. You should come.” Janine utters as she removes the last set of jewellery from me. For a minute, my gaze on the dresser reminded me of the forcefulness Marko held me in. The delightful intensity of his silver eyes that held me in the mirror and the foul language that slipped from his lips as he buried himself inside me. A shudder escapes me at the memory. For a man who doesn’t talk much, he is a beast. My teeth find my lower lip as I press my centre harder on the chair, hoping to squelch the throb that came alive. We haven’t talked since then; we either had to film separately, or he had affairs to handle being an A-lister, of course. But if I go to the party then, we can talk and maybe even define this so that I do not have to hesitate to dial his number on my phone. How weird would it be if a one-time thing had the audacity to call from a number she had to get from the director? He is an A-lis
"Hush hush, Milos."I whisper to the fussy bundle of warmth in my arms; he had begun fussing from the second I sprayed my perfume on; either he is allergic, or he understands that I am leaving the house.“Any sign of him settling?”Violet asks as she nears me with a bottle of milk warmed to room temperature.“No, not even a little. Should I stay?”Milos, as if understanding my question to Violet, opens his little hands as if trying to reach me and coos.A warmth melts in my chest before he offers a toothless grin at my ‘aww’.“See, he wants me to stay.”“How many of Marko’s events have you missed? Didn’t the league tell you how many of his men they caught trying to snoop around you? At this rate, he might find out about-”“I know, I know-”I respond with a quick eye roll.“Come on, gimmie Milos, before you change your mind.”Her arms reach for him, but I instinctively cradle him closer to my chest.The sound of the bell interrupts us.“That has to be Beatrice with George and Owen for