MasukFallonZayn is doing his best to ignore me. Either that, or I hit a nerve by telling him I’m actually enjoying my, well, kidnapping and confinement in KiloKilo. He didn’t take that sentiment pleasantly, which immediately brought me back in time to when I made this decision in the first place. I promised him I wouldn’t leave. I did. I mean, I did change my mind at the very last second, so it wasn’t entirely my fault, but it’s clear his trust in me and my judgment is minimal, but if we’re going to play house, he must trust me. Which is why I plan to be the best behaved I’ve ever been. Today. Right now, at this very moment! It should be easy. I’ve been one of the only women in a room of men on countless occasions. Men who used to sneer and turn their cheek at my mother, who now bow and crawl before her. Men are easy to please in regard to diplomacy. Throw them a bone, and eventually, they’ll throw you a whole animal carcass, or whatever the hell Grandma Ella said. I can shut up. I ca
FallonCathy turns me by the shoulders to inspect the roughly cut silhouette hanging from my body. Pins pinch precariously close to my skin, but I’m not a novice by any means. I’ve been to thousands of dress fittings over the course of my mostly dreadfully boring twenty-three years in the Goddess’ kingdom, and this one doesn’t even come close to the more painful experiences I’ve had. “Is this really the type of shape you like?” Cathy frowns, pinching the fabric toward the curve of my hips. I swat her hands away, tilting my chin toward the ceiling in defiance. “I know what I like.”“Obviously,” she murmurs, sucking the word in on a breath. “Well, it wouldn’t be what I’d choose.”I bite my tongue to stop myself from tossing the fact that she’s shaped like an effigy of a goddess while I’m reminiscent of a twelve-year-old boy out into the universe. “I like to be able to move and breathe.”“It’s rather dated.”I huff with frustration, blinking up at the ceiling. “It’s a vintage cut. Ther
ZaynJason, barefoot with his cotton trousers rolled up past his ankles and the top buttons of his shirt undone, moves into the shade of a large palm tree and sinks onto the grass where Tali and I are already situated. He passes a bottle of beer to me and then hands one to Tali. Undone is a good way to describe Jason right now–in more ways than one. Tali’s golden eyes hold mine for a few seconds before he leans forward and nudges Jason on the knee. Jason, unaccustomed to not only being touched, but conversing openly in general, flinches away. He casts Tali an apologetic glance and drinks deeply from his beer. Meanwhile, I’m watching the scene on the beach just outside my house–my castle. Fallon stands beside Cathy, the two of them deep in conversation, while the three boys–Andy, Gracen, and Koa–dart in and out of the surf. Fallon has already been in and out of the water several times testing the swimsuit Cathy was able to conjure, along with an array of other clothing items that w
FallonWhile the tunic and what I believe might be considered capris on a taller person fit well and look somewhat decent, I can’t escape the heinous sandals that followed me from the inn in… Toppifaire? Yes, that was the name of the portside village. I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror in Zayn’s–our–dressing room, which is empty. Totally, completely empty, like whatever life he lived here before was completely cleared out during the six years he was masquerading as a knight in the Allied Kingdoms. I’m too hungry to fret over my tangled hair and my overall appearance. Normally, I’d have my hair brushed, styled, and out of my face entirely when leaving. An intricate skincare routine and a few swipes of makeup would follow before I donned whichever gown tickled my fancy. I frown at myself, shake my head, and surrender to island living–which is very laid back, at least so far. My ugly sandals clack loudly, echoing off the walls, while I follow Zayn, who’s dressed very w
FallonZayn fell asleep the second he returned from the ensuite bathroom, teeth brushed, hair combed, whatever else he does during his nightly routine. While he snoozes with his back to me, practically hanging off the far side of the massive bed that could easily fit five full-sized men side to side, I sit here, twiddling my thumbs, not sleepy in the slightest after wasting an entire day with an epically painful migraine. I doubt Zayn’s a heavy sleeper. I’m sure he’ll wake up with a jolt if I so much as breathe too hard, so after trying and failing to force my body back to rest, I slink out of bed in the early hours of the morning when, under normal circumstances, a house of this size and rank would be quietly alive with the earliest of the day’s preparations. Instead of maids hurrying from room to room, and a kitchen bustling with steam and the first heavy scents of breakfast being made, I’m met by silence. It’s not heavy or eerie. It’s a calm, sea-kissed kind of peace that follow
FallonI wake from a state that’s similar to what I assume a coma would feel like at exactly 9:47 P.M. I have no idea what day it is, or, quite frankly, where I am. I have very few memories of much beyond that amazing dinner and a salt breeze before my brain split in half. I sit up, blinking into a totally dark, but regal, room that curves in nearly a circle. A few doors catch strips of moonlight beaming through six arched windows, all of which are open to the sound of waves rolling against a nearby shore. For a moment, I feel transported to Maatua, but this place has none of the modern charm of the beach houses my family shares. Marble columns stretch toward the ceiling, and even in the moonlight, I can tell the room is decorated in shades of sand, with pale blues and greens–very beachy and serene, indeed. I am, thank the Goddess, without a doubt, no longer in Meccana. I slide out of bed and immediately spot a new shift and matching robe draped over a nearby armchair, which mean
EllaI can feel his hesitation as he lays me down on the bed. It’ss soft and cool to the touch from the gentle tropical breeze drifting through the open doors leading to a starlit balcony. A shiver snakes over my skin–whether from the chill in the air or the fact Ryatt’s hands are trailing down my si
EllaWe’ve spent several days in the castle… doing nothing, and it’s been the best three days of my life. Every morning I wake to Ryatt laying Kenna down between us and crawling back into bed for a few moments of peace as a family. Tender kisses and soft laughs fill those blissful minutes before we d
EllaAll is well. Nothing is amiss. Our daughter is growing as she should be. Here’s a list of herbs. The alchemist in the market can make you a bundle for teas and spicing your food. You should be eating this as often as you can. It’ll help with the aches and fatigue. The midwife’s words echo in my
EllaRyatt edges closer, slowly undoing the clasps and hooks keeping his leathers fastened to his body. There’s so much hunger in his eyes right now. Gone is that distant look of resignation, of sorrow, and of disbelief that clouded his vision the entire time we were healing in Maatua and the isles.







