☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Just then, an idea pops into my head. Who the hell said I couldn't return the letter? It's such a simple yet no-shit solution I should have come up with decades ago. Yes... I wouldn't owe Absalon shit if I just gave him back his letter. After all, it wasn't like I'd been able to decipher its contents. He'd ensured that the sheet had remained blank since the first day it arrived in my mail, no matter what I did. I had a sweet plot to be put in motion. First, I had to badger Mikael for details about Absalon's departure once he was back. Then I would find a chance to sneak out of the house and hunt him down. I've always been a superb tracker than most wolves despite their excellent noses and smell system. I'm pretty confident I'll be able to sniff him out somehow. What, instead, might be impossible is escaping Mikael's clutches. Considering his keen perception and propensity to detect every cue about me, it might not be feasible at all. It may seem foolish that
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Something shifts inside me. The manacles come undone. Not by my will. No, it finds a better object of attraction worthier of its time than me. I don't know what the new entity might be, but I hear the contented hissing of the dark presence as it slithers away from me. My panic dissipates sluggishly, but I kick upward, glad to have my consciousness freed. I burst to life with a harsh gasp. "Mikael?" His name is the first sound that leaves my lips in a groan. My head pounds like a pistol is being hankered into my cranium. I search for him on my left side, barely unable to manage the chore of moving my head. Ow. The rest of my body is still rigid, unwilling to answer my demands. I'm inclined against the hardboard of an unfamiliar bed. He stands some feet away; our eyes lock in a heated gaze. Or rather, mine are pinned by orbs as pitch black as night. "Fucking hell," I mutter at the drawn fangs and protruding claws glinting dangerously. Mikael's no longer here.
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ "Oh gods, no. No, you're wrong!" I protest, doubled over by the hit his words packed to my chest. "That's not what I think at all, Mikael. I don't think you're a monster. I couldn't because you aren't." I grasp his hand tightly, trying to comfort him. It's saddening to see what he believes of me. If Mikael's a monster, then that means every supernatural is because he's no different from them, aside from his dissociation problem. It's all my fault, complaining so much about something he can't control. How could I have been so selfish and insensitive? It honestly beats me. How can I expect him to be respectful and considerate about my feelings when I don't reciprocate the same notion? In a bid to make him feel better, I tug him into an embrace. With his head resting on my chest and my fingers buried in his hair, I mumble my apologies. "I'm sorry I made you believe I see you differently because you sometimes lose yourself. I'm sorry I didn't consider you enough
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ A simper simmers on his inviting lips as he releases the stinging flesh he's since tortured. A glance downward tells me my areolae are the colour pink of a jellyfish. "Who knew you could be this compliant, piscín?" "I'm not—" I start to protest, but I'm cut off when the warmth of his mouth encloses a pert bud. I turn liquid in his hold. He repeats the action on the other lonely peak, and I squirm anxiously, wanting more. Needing more. He replaces his mouth with a hand, and I have a second to prepare myself for the fist that tightens in my hair and slams my mouth to his. To each demand he makes, I reciprocate with greater fervour. His firm lips meld into mine, cajoling my defences to fall and shatter into smithereens. I moan as his tongue plunges through, his warmth encasing every bit of my being. Inquisitive fingers roam the crannies of my body as we lock lips feverishly, passion heightening by the second. I can't tell when the straps of my dress are rolled
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ She is hurt. Her eyes, which usually sparkle, are glum, dimmed with a dismal sadness. I have nothing to say to her to soften this blow the Crestengalt has delivered. Granted that it is my fault she had to learn of this in the first place, I yet have a ripping urge to tear into the fool who sent this issue spiralling into the ditch. Like the men who let Absalon traipse into the ball, Wade is as useless and thick as a dolt. His presence has meant more inconveniences and nuisances. I have an excellent mind to pelt down these steps after him to teach a lesson he'll not forget shortly. I might also discharge some of the anger bottled up at my failure to impound the sorcerer and his infuriating wife. Alas, I can't. "I'm waiting for a freaking answer, Mikael." "Asthore, you must listen; I did not—" She snickers in mock. "If you think I'm going to stand here and listen to lies from your lips, Mikael, you're sadly mistaken. Either you tell me the truth, or you don't s
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ A glass shard buries itself in my chest at her words. "What mistakes did you make?" The question is garbled out in a strangled manner I fail to contain. "Many. I don't want to think about most of them, but let's talk about the fact that I did drugs that night. I was on a high I'd never experienced before. I was bolder than I'd ever been. Braver than I could have ever imagined. Of course, that only meant I was stupider than ever, willing to take unnecessary risks. I didn't think twice when I was cajoled into stripping and dancing on a pole while cheers were tossed over my head like flowers." She grimaces at the memory rushing to the surface. "It was that awful?" I quip, a helpful audience despite knowing exactly how it was as one of the witnesses that'd been present to enjoy her performance. It had lit a fire in my veins; each writhe of her body had water-boarded the boats of my marbles, turning everything sane and remotely standard upside down and into chaos.
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ She sighs deeply before offering a response. "Because I wanted to help my pack. It's a simple reason, but it's not so mundane when you realise I was willing to sacrifice everything for those I loved. You could have been one of those old-fashioned Alphas, still grounded in ancient ideas of how women are to answer to them. Yet..." her breath shudders, and I suppress the urge to comfort her. "By choosing to marry you, I gave up my freedom, sovereignty, and desires to put my pack's welfare first. But it didn't matter because, in my view, I was doing the right thing. I could not hate anybody for it because I believed it was my choice. Mine alone." "Saskia..." I summon her into my arms as distress begins to round her shoulders and cause her stunning eyes to tear up. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love." My kisses melt into her hair, and she holds onto me with a steel grip. I kiss her forehead, then both her cheeks. She stirs when my lips imprint on the creamy length of her t
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ I still feel like a fool. The brunt of the story remains that I was used by my father. I also have to ponder if this isn't the same instance when it comes to Mikael. How do I know he's not manipulating me? Especially since he was the one who asked for the princess of Westardum to marry him. My only question to debase that presumption would be, what for? What would the Alpha of Guttenbrieg stand to gain by making me his wife? Could I be a pawn in a game played by too many people? Truth is, my assumption is not implausible. It's simply highly improbable. I don't see many cases in which I've been notably valuable to the pack in a manner that might make me indispensable. Combing my fingers through the fluffy fur of Mikael's wolf, I keep from indulging in the spiralling black hole of thoughts pulling me in. I want to trust him, but I'm not stupid. His meeting me once—which I don't even remember—and deciding he wanted me as his wife is not logical. What could I ha