When Calleb woke up he was hot and sticky all over. His long silver hair was sticking on his back and forehead. Not only that, but the young man wondered why he felt so lightheaded. It wasn’t the first time he bedded Accashia, but when he woke up the day after he never felt this kind of sheer uncomfortable feeling. It usually isn't this hot, however, it's not only him whose temperature has skyrocketed. Accashia’s body was shivering, and her face was contorted and was obviously in pain. Calleb quickly leaned closer, and then gently removed the hair that was covering the bite mark he gave to months ago. He groaned, slammed his fist against the ground and created a hole and crack. The young man felt immense frustration, for he doesn’t know what’s happening with the mark on Accashia’s nape. Before the mark was fading away, but now the veins on her back were visible, throbbing. The scar looked odd, like Accashia’s flesh was moving, as if something was crawling and clawing her from the in

Accashia was sitting at the edge of the cliff of the land that Calleb told her they’ll be calling home. Calleb said he had found an abandoned house not so far from the Eastern Forest. The house has two storeys and is colored brown, beige and brown. Calleb described the house as Not bad looking. Not old. And looks fine enough to live in. Her legs crossed, feeling the edge of the cliff scratching and scraping her skin. The young lady smiled at the thought of Calleb had considered them to have a family of their own someday. It made a smile appear on her lips, her cheeks flushed — feeling the heat rising on her face. Accashia agreed and said, “Yes… maybe someday.” And they made love again that night. That’s when Calleb showed her the house as he carried her all the way there. ‘Romantic.’ Accashia noted. The house itself was decent enough, not only that but the kitchen was beautiful. Accashia noted that the kitchen was immediately her favorite part of the house. Four bedrooms. One roo

At first, Calleb thought that his mate was joking about saving his father and killing the Wicked Witch when they were relaxing at the cliff. But the moment he saw Accashia picking up the blade from the cave where he left it, he realized how serious she was. Unsure, shocked and baffled was an understatement at that point but he had to wrap his mind around this. Because one, Accashia promised to never lie again. Two, she also did notice the changes in Accashia’s body, especially the trace of crescent mark on her forehead. “What do you mean by that, save my Father — no way? Accashia, are you serious?” He asked with a smile, his voice hinting his disbelief by its rise and fall. How tense he was. “I thought I told you that I don’t want to. That’d I’d rather disappear and build my own Kingdom — with you. And you agreed.” Accashia nodded, pursing her lips and closed her eyes, suddenly looking grim. A bit guilty. “Yes, I did agree. But — Calleb. Shaldan is yours by Birthright. And your fathe

Accashia was riding Pilak as they raced towards the castle. With a fist full of fur in her hands, the young woman clings to the silver beast as he rushes through the castle. They left the house they were supposed to call home the moment Calleb had transformed. The black blade was tucked on the right side of her torso, using the remaining linens she tore from the bed of the old house to make a make-shift sheath. It’s time to attack. The full moon and the stars gave them weak streams of light that guided them through the darkness and thickets of the forest. Pilak growled as he felt they were close to the castle. Feeling the presence of the Alpha in his heart that brought him nerves. With a groan, Pilak speeds up and pushes through the thick grass. His huge paws making banging sounds against the dry ground, his fast pace sounding like a horse on a run. Accashia feels every beat of Pilak’s step, his movements reverberating against her whole body as she clings to him. “Onward!” Accashia

Accashia snapped her wrist, and flaunted the black sword in her hand. She could feel Pilak’s presence at the top of the tower — the west wing. The only question that’s boggling her mind is if she would make it in time. If only she could jump that high and the Castle wasn’t so far then she’d be up there minutes ago, fighting alongside her mate. “Die, you disgusting thing!” She yelled as she raised both of her arms, holding the grip of the sword tight and broke the skull of the Shadow that was taunting her. The young woman twisted the blade with a yell, breaking the spinal cord of the boney monster until she pierced the soul. Releasing it. Setting it free. Sending it to the underworld where it belonged. “May your soul rest in peace.” She said in wishful thinking. She wondered how long it would take for her to clear the path. How long has it been since she was fighting. An hour? Maybe even two. But in reality, it had only been a few minutes. The young lady continued to fight. Raising