"Maybe I will see him again in my sleep, papa. I will tell him you asked of him," She said, smiling with her tiny teeth. "That will be a nice, princess. It will be nice," I said and kissed her forehead. I did not know how to interpret her dream or if there was anything to interpret, but it sounded
The way the people described him with her was just like me and Aliana, but in a sick way. Their lives were all twisted. Fredrick was fated to Gwendolyn, while my mother was fated to Gabriel. Had they lived normal lives void of hate, maybe they would have been with their fated, and Olive might have
Nikolas. Piotr ensured we all left for Forest first thing in the morning. They wanted to come with their guards and some of their officers, but I refused. The last thing I wanted was for people to try to attack Gaddafi and his family in Forest unprovoked. The people in Snow were still troubled abou
Aliana and I returned to our room to freshen up. She seemed very tired, and I could see the relief in her eyes. I watched her take off her clothes, down to her lacy black underwear. She looked delicious in her outfit, but I recognised she was tired, so I let it rest. We showered together, and when
"How come he speaks our language?" Qusack finally said, and I knew he felt stupid. That should have been one of our questions. Because our continent was not on their map and they arrived here by chance, how come they speak our language? "Do you think he is hiding something?" Qusack asked, and I did
Nikolas. Morning came. I could feel the eagerness in the air. Aliana was still sleeping, and I felt her temperature rise slightly. I hoped the whole issue with Snow and the attackers had not gotten to her. Even though she had maintained a calm exterior and had fun in Hill, I could not dismiss the
I planned to rush through the day to join my wife in the hospital. I prayed for strength because my heart was no longer at ease. The last thing I wanted to think of was being told that my wife had passed away. The fear was real, and it was coursing through my veins. I had never been afraid of losi
Nikolas. Qusack ushered in Gaddafi and his sons, Khalif and Yusuf. They seemed more refreshed than they were the last time I saw them. They were clean-shaven, and their thick black hair shined. They looked as if they were not from around here, but they would obviously make the ladies swoon. "Your