☾☾☾SASKIA'S POV☽☽☽ A passage is cleared immediately as he carries me out of the training premises. My throat remains clogged up until we're close to the house. Then I muster the strength to speak, overcoming the physical and mental drainage brought about by what I'd somehow managed to execute. The question of who I am and what I've become churns my peace, swirling around in my head, but I ignore it, focusing on my present need instead. "I need a shower." "Alright," he grunts, then, holding me awkwardly with one arm, pushes open the door. I could have sworn the house released a moan of relief at our entrance as if a living being. Mikael leaves the door open and strides right in, covering the entire length of the sitting room in a trice. However, he learns his mistake because my attention remains fixed on the log gate left ajar as I stare it down over his shoulder. Retracing his footsteps, he kicks the barrier close with soft muttering. I'm too fatigued to tell him that he should
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ She's naked. In my arms. Her hard nipples poke my chest, and rational thoughts flee. So enchanting a woman she is. She rouses a man too thoroughly. And now, standing before me without any covering to her supple body, it is as if my blood has been torched. I inhale deeply, harnessing her arousal's scent, entitling the fragrance to sprint down hubs that have gone untouched for a while. "Why, aren't you a little minx, piscín?" I nibble at her earlobe before bending to suckle at the silky skin at her neck's crook. My tongue strokes her clean body, relishing my wash's smell mingling with that which is only hers. She shudders, breath turning shallow, and I renew my incursion with vigour, savouring the muted citrusy notes. Her dainty moans maneuver smoothly through the taut air, encapsulating all in the fragile ball of a woven spell. "I did not imagine that you'd be out here seducing me this early in the day." She shoves me away. "What?" Large dreamy emerald eyes now
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ “Thank you, Mikael.” It’s pleasing to hear her call my name instead of the formal, rigid salutation of Alpha she dearly values. “You smell more of yourself than you did in the bathroom.” Her smile is tender though laced with caution. “I used my personal products afterward.” “Come sit here with me.” She marks my instruction, and heads in my direction, taking an opposite to mine. I chuckle as she has wrongly interpreted what I said. “Sit with me in this chair.” Her brows raise, and she stares warily at my lap and upper limbs like they are contraptions that could explode at any instant. “No.” “Why not?” My grin is nothing less of a snarl. “I don’t bite.” She narrows her eyes until they are in a squint, the viridescence of her irises fading from view. “You do bite.” “I do.” I concede with a wink that she scoffs at in return. “But I won’t now, not without your consent. Not unless you want me to.” I know the look she wears. It’s one I’ve noticed to make an entra
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ I fold my arms behind my head as I readjust into a prone position on the fur rug, a smirk playing on the corners of my lips. “You are warmer?” “Yes.” She clicks her tongue, then shuffles in the same spot. “Did you like my presents?” I tilt to consider her without the shadows cast on her by the darkness unfurled behind the brilliance of the fiery niche. The light sets her features aglow, but only from a precise angle. Her hand finds her throat, and I avert my gaze from the expanse of exposed silky skin. “I liked them. Though, I must admit that they were a lot. I don’t know what or when I’m going to use that many pieces of jewellery.” She shakes her head as if still finding the phenomenon unbelievable. “You will receive even more in the future.” I enjoy how shock drops her jaw for a beat before continuing. “Do not worry about when to wear them. There will be enough occasions in the future. As Luna, you will have many events to attend. It’d serve you well to star
I'm neither relaxed nor in good humour, but I pretend so as I call the cub en route to my office. He trots behind me, as mum as a sealed mouth entails. Anger dissipates from the lividness I have bottled up despite my honest efforts. Phoenix's news of a failed settlement has soured my cast. The youngling at my heels knows me well enough to detect my foul mood and keeps a reasonable distance. "Has the body been taken care of?" I glance at Redor's lowered head as he hastens forth. He reports in a mellow tone that does not rouse me more than the current. "It has, Alpha. As instructed, it has been embalmed. All that remains is for the transfer." "Await my command for the next step." "Aye, Alpha." He begins to slink away but straightens, refilling his spot at realising I've not finished speaking. Snow crunches beneath my feet, adhering to the sole of my heavy slides. I revive the memory of carrying her across the field to our wedding. She'd been on the verge of lamenting at the sea of
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ Makwa must wipe out the nasty lots of the packs. The elders. Vile, wicked vipers they are, pretending, hiding in the shells of tortoises as if harmless. Fortunately, their time has come to be discarded. They've lived long enough, had an eternity to hold on to the rigid customs that eat up the cloth of unity in the packs. More importantly, I have no use for idiots who will only take a stab at each turn of my back. There's much that lies ahead. I have little desire to hamper my progress by keeping track of their moves, sharing my focus between the vital future and a less consequential pastime or bothering about ploys being plotted under my nose in my jurisdictions. Not if I have a say of it. I harrumph as the pen glides smoothly over the foolscap paper: a note of the destruction that will be visited on the packs. Makwa will hear of his new mission when he's back from his rounds with Margaret about the new Northwestern territories. Tomorrow, if all goes well, he'l
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ "Supernatural creatures are forms of magic. The first werewolves, as you know, were fashioned from the moon goddess's magic. It continues to run down in generations born, and is why you all shift. As for newly turned wolves, she blesses them herself." "I am aware. Go on." I egg her on when she takes a pause, a pensive look on her face. "For the most powerful of creatures, weres or other, excess magic leaks out of them, and since they have nowhere to go, they infiltrate my spheres, wells from which I draw my stored powers. Negative emotions lead to dark repercussions, blackening the spheres, throwing me off balance and discomposing my control." "Do all witches use these spheres you have mentioned?" "Ony those powerful or with magic that poses themselves or others serious danger. And even then, it's different for everyone." 'Which category do you fall under?" I press, an inquisitiveness taking the wheel in my probing. She looks away, her lips curling inward. H
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ "It's nice to see you too, Micky." She draws near, and the impulse to rise, springing up to a stand—so I tower over her—spears through me like a lanced harpoon. "Desist from calling me by that ridiculous epithet. And do not toss aside my question. Why are you here?" She tsks, unmoved by my sore temper or the threat of my exposed canines. "You always did hate that moniker. Not sure why. It suits you quite nicely, brother." Her fair hair shimmers in the muted lights of the room, a contrast to her dark gown and cloak. The slick strands are as I remember them, pale, nearly ashen, and to keep with the tradition she'd grown with, twisted in the most intricate of updos. It was mere centuries ago she was a little thing sobbing inconsolably that she was not permitted to wear her hair down, to let it be wild and free. Now, she keeps it bound of her own accord. The irony. But then again, it is no call for surprise. She's done much I once would not have believed to be in