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☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Maybe I should yell, but I've never been the type to shout in distress. To leak salty streams from my eyes? Maybe. Call for help? Never. The only occasions on which I scream involve my anger. So when Mikael gains on me far faster than I'd predicted, I spin around, fists cocked to fight. "It's me, a stór. It is me." He cuts me short by his declaration, and I stop mid-swing, gaping at the clear irises that reflect my image. A quick scan at my hand reveals my fingers sparking with a pure white aura that hurts to stare at. On a larger scale, it would be blinding. I tighten my fists to hide the phenomenon. It's not the first time this's happened. If I ignore it long enough, it'll go away. "Mikael. Thank goodness you're back." I amble towards him, but I only end up slumping forward, my limbs debilitated as the adrenaline passes through. Except I know it's not only that. It's way more than just adrenaline-induced relapse causing my fatigue. "Are you alright?" Stron
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ In his absence, I feel up to judging my surroundings. I’m in a poster bed with cobalt blue sheets, three matching pillows and a white comforter. I don’t like too many pillows taking up space, so this number is perfect. All three also fit snugly against my back as I haul myself up to sit. My sight pans from one corner of the half-empty room to another. There’s a standard shelf and a small dresser, but that’s all. Woah. One thing that’s sure is Mikael sucks at making rooms more than just rectangular enclosures. I’ve transformed my room at the pack into a place that, at first glance, looks to be the habitat of a living being. However, I’ve seen Mikael’s room. It’s so empty of decor and homeliness that it hurts to recall it. If we’re to constantly board at this house, we’ll need a new interior design, or I’ll be sleeping outside. Just an over-exaggeration, by the way. Frankly, I’d expected the rest of the Georgian house to be as magnificent as its front, but obvi
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ I did forget to count. I shouldn't have, I know. I should have kept a tally just to prove him wrong. But I couldn't. Not when he'd coaxed one orgasm after the other out of me and without stop. He'd unravelled me, left me bare, tattered to the last threads of my being. All my defences came crumbling down at our joining. For once, I was unguarded, unfortified before him, lying shieldless as he ruined me with each of his strokes, and when I'd thought it was all over, he'd resurrected me to repeat the act. Never have I experienced such blissful, rapturous ecstasy that swept me off my feet like a running river. We'd started out energetic, a chaotic coupling that spoke of the pent-up sexual frustrations we both had. I hadn't known I was so desperate for his touch until he was sweeping a line from the base of my waist to the centre of my chest, swirling between the mounds that patiently waited for him to lavish his attention on them. Other than that, I'd had no inkli
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Wade? I almost laugh. "Are you kidding me? No, of course not. I don't have feelings for Wade. Neither does he have any for me." Sure, he's sometimes charming, and I might have nursed a little crush on him when I was thirteen, but that was back then. He never once regarded me that way, and I got over my crush quickly. "That's not something either of us would ever consider. He's merely a close friend." His voice drops an octave lower when he says. "Doesn't seem like that to me." "Since when did you become a seer?" I strain in his viper grasp, but the damned thing only tautens around my midsection. "Let go of me, dammit!" I mutter, angrily clashing against him. "I became so since my wife started harbouring feelings for a rapscallion." "Do you have cotton balls in your ears? Didn't you hear when I said we ain't together that way?" I fume to the point of foaming. If only I could kick him in the balls. "Let go of me, dammit!" I mutter angrily, clashing against him
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ It pains me to part from her, but I'd be more a fool to sit in the range of her discerning gaze while crafting the lie I'm to unroll like a scroll before her jewelled eyes. I suppose it is not, in a precise sense, a lie, but it does not mirror the entire truth either. "What? Me?" She'd asked, as befuddled as a sweet rabbit. She's since sat there awaiting my reply, half-holding her breath for an explanation that will not come. "You should get dressed and prepare for the ball," I grunt, tossing my shirt and trousers on in a hail. She glares at me, a myriad of emotions splayed on her face, anger and confusion above most. I want to kiss all into vanishing, but I refrain from starting what would not benefit both of us if not finished. It is unfortunate there is no time for that. We've drawn out the hours of the day in bed in rapturous bliss found in each other. No more can be spared if we desire to make it to the ball, though I would go to Lyra first before at last
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ I tear through the fabric from the tiny nick, satisfied when it opens like ribbons to a gift. Ensconced lower, it glimmers, tender and ready, calling for me to lavish affection in its concern. I reason it would be a crime to deny its request. Retracting my claws, I roll the shreds of her brazier down her shoulders. My fingers circle on the sensitive flesh, and she shudders accordingly. "Good girl," I murmur, and she glares at me, but at twisting a stiff nub, she lets out a soft moan mixed with pain and pleasure. "That's better, leannán. I want you to cooperate with me." She gives the impression of readying to cuss at me, but a shadow passes over her gorgeous face, and she pins her lip with her teeth, submission apparent in her body language. It's one of the few instances she's given up on a fight. I suppose today is a day to be full of marvels. "You impress me, asthore," I whisper as her pantie comes off, a sheer, flimsy cloth that disappears under my palm as
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ Yet, I heed that she speaks true, and we cannot afford to not see to our businesses by nightfall. “It’s your blame for being so prepossessing and wickedly alluring. Without trying, you entice me. You shall be the talk of the ball.” She pins me with a severe stare. “Should I be happy about that?” “Perhaps not. I will rip into any male that gazes at my wife for too long or dares to leer at her.” She toys with her ring absent-mindedly. “You’re rather bloodthirsty today, aren’t you?” “Indeed,” I pause to glare at her neck, long and graceful yet highly exposed. The ball was not thrown in favour of vampires, so I expect very few turnouts of the bloodsuckers. However, it wouldn’t be a first for the devilish creatures to sneak in, existing where no one wishes them. “Are you armed?” “Find out yourself.” “You love to make me work, Luna.” I lease a complaint that has no meaning, all to poke fun at her. “Fortunately, I am only too glad to oblige.” She lets out a peal
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ It's past time to leave. Yet, I have not an inclination to let her go. There's this foreboding, a fearful apprehension whittling into my mind. I'd like to blame it on the reality that I shall not be near her for a while, but this feeling is quite more than that. It's too similar to disaster's presentiment to let my worries lie in peace. Moments ago, my concern had been at insignificant levels. Now, it's skyrocketed. I squeeze her in my arms for a stretch longer. "I think we should go now." The motor hums behind us, a reminder that we've tarried too long. My sigh fogs into a small cloud as I deliver the last of what she ought to have knowledge of at the ball. "Keep your head high. Whether visible or not, you have a crown to protect. Bow only to the Alphas. Everyone else, you ignore." She exhales, long and slow. "Got it." "Do not falter or waver in yourself. You were once Princess of Westardum. Of present, you're my wife, Luna of Guttenbrieg. There's no greater