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CHAPTER NINTY-SEVEN
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2024-10-29 19:42:56“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
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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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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
Mated To My Hated Enemy CHAPTER NINETY-NINE
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Mated To My Hated Enemy CHAPTER NINTY-EIGHT
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
Mated To My Hated Enemy CHAPTER NINTY-SEVEN
“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
