All Chapters of Prince Alpha's Rejected Maid: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Sixty hours. Two and a half day. Summer dissipitating quicker than anticipated. Barely blossomed trees were shedding leaves, a cluster of them marked the entry gate at Noah Abel’s home. Which, if things stayed the way they were, would soon be a place crawling with trackers of all kind, changeling and wolves. Some hired rogues who’d kill for a quick buck. And the way tings were going, Vanessa was out of basement. Still under a watchful eye. She truly believed the half reason was becasue Noah was concerned, but the other half sininster enough to wash away any delusions she might have about him. There wasn’t much to think anyway. Evan was the only person who checked in on her, otherwise she was invisible. Who would have thought even her misfortunes would fail at making her famous, or infamous? The occasional cheek-chewof bitterness when a pang of heartache intruded, as is thier nature which she shoved aside and focused on day-to-day activities to keep her going. Aside from the cluster o

It was hard to be glum in a place like this. Languages crowded the air like exotic birds: French, Hebrew, Arabic, Farsi, phrases in tribal native among food cart holders and pestering shopkeepers. The alleys were draped in silk, fresh carpets overflowing the narrow road between the shops. Men in safari dresses wearing tarboosh caps lingered in the doorway. The sun about to set, mother hurried their children home. The market was open for tourists in the evening and laughter trilled from all sides. It was indeed hard to be glum, thought Calvin. He visited the bustle of market, finding himself insignificant in the crowd. And like a palindrome he was reminded of his importance. His hands held tight to the cup of warm tea in his hand. The streets of Morroco were fairytales painted, without so much as lifting the brush, vivid and enchanting, straight from a child’s mind. There were snake charmers and dancers, barefoot carni fokls, hapless tourists tinkering with everything they found worth

A pair of windows with carved shutters stood open to the night, their ledges three feet deep revealing the fortress thickness of the walls. Ceilings carved in Arabic honeycombs with tipped beaks biting at the sky. Calvin followed Issa with rampant interest. She showed him things up in the tomb, a secret lair of hers, hidden, away from the prying eyes. Things that he liked to see. They were a conundrum but they were his conundrum.“Last we talked, you said the transfusion works like resurrection.” There was sick awe in his voice. It also reflected in the old lady, who had given up on her spine and walked with a stick. He had also offered her to help with that but she refused. Self-service quacked at her ethics it seemed.“Yes. Yes. But not in the way you think.” She was right. They weren’t talking about dead people. Ever since he had learned to control the elemental part of any entity- quantum physics would call it an atom, at inter-atomic level, he started manipulating small things.

Crescent moon blades, all eight of them tucked safely in places his reflexes reached first were at best unnoticeable, and at worst a small dose of humiliation because anyone looking would think he had a boner in public and shift their eyes away. One advantage of being among a sexually shy crowd was this, and if the gaze lingered, they were either interested in spending the night with him or killing him, straitjacketing him weaponless. Leaving him defenseless. So when the tall blonde, relatively taller, he backtracked and took a different turn where the end of kasbah met, and a row of garbage cans lined up. It was the back of an apartment building. The southern heat beat on his back and he was damp with sweat in few minutes. Two days here, and his skin was already catching a dusty mellow gold tan. The wolf perked its ear up, there was a TV playing in the house left to him, some Arabic cooking show, the one next to it, someone was fighting loudly. Perfect. A perfect place to wait and

"Only one of them." His ears still rang with the thud of a heavy body flopping fish belly white. There wasn't a drop of blood, the wolf beheaded him surgically. And the other one. It will take a miracle for him to walk again. But Noah spared her the fine details. She nodded. Then pinched the sleeves of her sweater in fists and hugged him. She hugged him, a bear hug. Beatrice called it that. For someone so small, she had a fierce strength in her hug. Noah lifted his arms then dropped them. "Why are you doing this?" He kind of didn't want to hear it. But if in truth or dare, he won't dare take comfort like he hadn't been the cause of her pain, physical pain this time around. And truth was a bitter pill to swallow. Her willow soft body pressed against his was a sweet benediction he was trying to hold out on. "Why not?" She shuddered. That's when he pulled her closer. His wolf settled with a happy sigh. Because why not."Kiss me." Her muscles wound with winches right enough to snap.