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Chapter 11
She woke up, feeling sick as she watched him pull on his jeans.
“Derrek?” she whimpered
Her mouth dry, a pain throbbing below the bloody sheets.
“Hey sweetie, same again next week?” A sickly sweet smile on his lips before leaving.
*
Klara stretched cocooned in the scent of freshly cut grass and honey; Marc’s smell. She opened her eyes, a frown finding her face as she looked around, but Marc wasn’t there. Her fingers were gripped onto something, she looked to see a shirt. She smelt it; that was where his scent was coming from. She sighed, she felt so relaxed and well rested. She cuddled Marc’s shirt closer to her, br
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“Please, daddy. I don’t want them in-” Her words were cut off with another kick. She curled into a ball, wishing she’d said nothing at all.*A single staircase led upstairs while there were three doors coming from the hallway. The walls were a lovely grey, which contrasted the rest of the palace’s cream or stone walls. Adelaide opened the door to the left, “Living room,” she said as she walked in, “Opposite is dining.” She gestured to the door by the stairs, “Then kitchen,” Adelaide pointed towards an archway. Klara took in the living room, a matching fabric three piece suite, TV, paintings of rivers and trees. It was comfortable and homely. Klara liked it. “Wade’s not home.” Adelaide announced as she gestured to Klara to sit.
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The door unlocked and a blonde entered with a plate. Her cheekbone sporting a bruise, while her lip was bust. Klara grasped at the food, it had been twelve days since her last meal. * It was a week after the incident of Marc destroying his office. His anger and behaviour afterward had made Klara trust him a little more. He was having to spend longer hours away from the wing. It was late, the sun had set and Klara was restless being alone. She’d grown to get used to having company in the evenings and with Marc working late, she decided to see if he was in the King’s wing. She crept down the grand staircase, smelling to see if she could sense where he was. Rose wasn’t at her desk so she couldn’t ask. She sniffed to the right but his scent was faint, so she walked to the left hand corridor, his scent was stronger there. She followed his wonderful freshly cut grass and honey scent until she reached a door. Voices were coming from the other side, “My King, I am concerned,” an unkn
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Klara was desperately battling her wolf back, she had never known her to be this strong and dominant, the two sides of her mind in a silent battle to the outside world while she could only witness her wolf goading the King… the King of wolves! A descendant of the original wolf. She was panicking as she battled, desperate to take back control and grovel for his forgiveness at her disrespect. With the provocation Marc had no hope of getting back under control, but what happened next surprised both him and his wolf. Klara strode forward, haltering every few steps, her eyes flicking between baby and electric blue. With one swift move her small hands ripped the shirt from his shoulder, yanked him down to her height and her canines buried themselves deep into the dip above his collar bone. The animalistic groan mixed with a
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