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CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Later that night, I find myself seated in the kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting a warm ambiance over the room. With my dinner on the counter and my beloved book in hand. Having whiled away
the day immersed in its pages, I'm already halfway through. Beside me, Beatrice observes with mild interest, her gaze
lingering on the book clenched in my grasp.
"For a princess, I'm surprised you had the time to take up
such a human hobby," she remarks, her tone tinged with curiosity.
"You would be surprised," I reply, forcing a smile as
memories of my unconventional childhood flood my mind.
"Why does it sound like you didn’t have a typical royal
upbringing?" Beatrice probes gently, her keen intuition cutting through my
facade.
"You could say that," I murmur, turning a page in my
book before taking a bite of my dinner, attempting to deflect her inquiries.
But Beatrice isn't easily deterre
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Mated To My Hated Enemy CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
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Ten Years Later“Aidan, please stop pulling your sister’s hair,” I plead, my voice strained as I descend the stairs. Aidan, my firstborn, attempts to rip raven locks from his twin sister Aliyah’s scalp.For nine-year-olds, Aidan’s death glare is already perfected as his black hair falls over his face and emerald eyes shoot daggers at Aliyah. “She called me ugly, Mummy!” he huffs. I turn my gaze to my daughter, pushing her dark hair behind her ears. “And why do you do that, Aliyah? You know better than to do that.” Her own green eyes narrow at her brother. “He called me fat!”“I did not—” Aidan begins to argue, and I close my eyes, rubbing my temples as a familiar headache threatens to take hold. I adore my children, but sometimes...The pattering of tiny feet makes my eyes shoot open. “Liam, Lily, be careful!” I rush after my second set of seven-year-old twins, who have inherited their father’s striking features just like their older siblings.“And you too,” a deep, British voice mur
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We burst out of the castle, our suspicions confirmed as an arrow whizzes through the air, aimed directly at Nickolas. He snatches it out of the air before it can pierce his flesh, but the contact burns his skin, the telltale sign of Oak Tree venom. Lord Easterlin is really here, and the battle has begun.Nickolas tosses the arrow aside, his eyes flashing with rage as he moves toward the lycan who fired it, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. With a snarl, he plunges his hand into the attacker’s chest, ripping out his still-beating heart. Blood drips from Nickolas’s fingers as he watches the light fade from the lycan’s eyes, a grim smile playing on his lips. In an instant, he’s back at my side, his hand grasping mine tightly.“Let’s get you to safety,” he urges, his voice laced with concern.Despite allowing me to train, Nickolas is still reluctant to let me fight. I understand his worries, but he needs to realize that this battle is as much mine as it is his.“I want to fight
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I tap my feet against the floor, my nerves fraying with each passing second as I wait for Dad to say something. We arrived back in the werewolf kingdom an hour ago. Nickolas just finished pouring his heart out to Dad, explaining everything that happened. He apologized profusely for nearly killing him on his birthday. He declared his unwavering love for me and his desire to build a life together. But Dad remains silent, his expression unreadable as he stares at Nickolas, who stands rigid with tension, his shoulders taut as he awaits Dad’s judgment.When Dad finally rises from the couch, Nickolas and I follow suit, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I interlock my fingers with Nickolas’, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is going to be alright,” I whisper into his mind. Since we have completed the mating process, we can send messages down our bond.“Welcome to the family, son,” Dad says, his voice warm as he pulls Nickolas in for a hug. Relief washes over me, a
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“What the fuck did you just say?” A familiar voice booms from the bottom of the stairs, startling me. I spin around, my heart leaping into my throat, to find Caleb standing there, his eyes wide with shock. Oh, heavens above! How could I have forgotten about Caleb? He must have been worried sick about me. I wonder how he found me here, of all places.“King Nickolas!” Caleb adds, his brows furrowing in confusion as he takes in Nickolas standing by my side. Panic grips me, and I quickly move to stand before Nickolas, shielding him with my body. I can only imagine what Caleb must be thinking - that Nickolas survived somehow, and now he needs to finish the job.“He’s real?” Caleb asks incredulously, pointing at Nickolas after noticing my protective stance. “Yes, and before you try to do anything, please hear me out,” I plead, my voice trembling slightly.Caleb closes his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief before crossing his arms over his chest. “You have one minute,” he grits out, his j
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The living room is as breathtakingly beautiful as the rest of the house, all plush fabrics and gleaming surfaces that speak of wealth and taste. I make my way to the nearest couch, ready to sink into its inviting cushions, but before I can even sit down, Nickolas sweeps me up into his arms and deposits me on his lap.“Whenever we’re together, this is where you sit,” he murmurs, adjusting me on his thighs, his arm wrapping securely around my waist, his hand splaying possessively over my belly.A soft smile tugs at my lips, warmth blooming in my chest at his casual display of affection. If someone had told me even a few short months ago that Nickolas would be this clingy, this openly demonstrative with his love, I would have laughed in their face. But now, feeling the solid strength of his body beneath me, the tender way he holds me close, I can’t imagine anything feeling more right.“Let’s hear it,” Eric prompts, settling into the armchair across from us, his eyes alight with curiosity
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“Can I see them again?” I ask, my voice breathless with anticipation, a giddy smile stretching across my face as I wait for Nickolas to reveal his back once more, to show me the tattoo of my lips adorning his scars. Even now, the reality of it steals the air from my lungs, making my heart flutter wildly in my chest.His answering smile is soft and indulgent, his eyes glowing with warmth as he slowly turns, baring his back to me. I suck in a sharp breath at the sight, my fingers itching to trace the delicate lines of ink, to map the ridges and valleys of his scars. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to seeing this tangible proof of his love, this permanent declaration etched into his very skin.“Can I touch them?” I whisper, my voice hushed with reverence, knowing how sensitive he is about anyone laying hands on his scars, even me.Nickolas turns to face me, his gaze locking with mine, the intensity in his eyes stealing the bre
