☾☾☾SASKIA'S POV☽☽☽There's just something about today; it's almost as if I'm more prone to losing my shit than on other days. If this continues, I might explode.Could everyone simply let me be before then? Before I detonate like an atomic weapon? I'm beyond tired of the BS. To imagine that I'd been on his side less than an hour ago, ready to take down his sister for insulting him? Presently, I want to bash his nose in with my knee. Maybe that would be going too far. Too much violence. Let's say I desperately want to kick him in the shin—without a shin guard in place, of course."As I said, I do not care. Get out!""This is so frustrating." I about scream my lungs into deterioration. I'm trying to be rational and logical, but he's not making a single effort to do the same. It's making things extensively harder than they should be. Perhaps, a compromise. "Okay, I will leave, but—""After you depart, do not forget to ask the Alpha about Cadhla's death, Luna." Kaleb gibes again.Hell b

☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ "Ah," I sigh, running a hand over my face. "The witchery... She's making me give a shit." It's an appalling thing. I'm turning soft, considering compassion from heeding her wishes. Say, a heartless were would not know how to treat a woman right, would they? Yet, that is what she desires of me. I cannot win her over otherwise. Ultimately, caring is a scary thought, for it hinders plans that should be set in motion. I cannot let that happen. There is no other plot to save the wolves in my fold. If this fails, all else does. And as it is, my family comes first. Jerald clears his throat loudly to invite my attention to the following query he asks. "For how long do you think to keep Kaleb bound, Alpha?" Without missing a beat, I reply: "as long as it would take my anger to dissipate and more for afterward to teach him a lesson." Jerald nods, understanding why I must go to such great lengths. No one challenges the Alpha, and though 'tis but for a short while, as lon

It hurts to act nonchalantly like I don't give a shit when, for him, I give too many. Because of him, I care too damn much. I simply pretend not to. "Why would I give you that satisfaction when you have no effect on me?" He nudges the slope of my neck with his nose, inhaling my essence. Goosebumps traverse the length of my arms as I fight this magnetic attraction to him. "Lie not. The fragrance of your arousal does not escape me, leannán." He purrs and my core trembles, pulsating without a moment's cease. I ignore the lump in my throat and staunchly keep from swallowing. I'd be dumb to let him see how he affects me. "Don't fool yourself, Mikael. Any man could have that effect on me. You aren't special." I say spitefully to knock him off the pegs he's stacked himself on. He doesn't deserve to hold sway over me when he's done nothing to satisfy me aside from spurring this lust swirling in me like the gales of a cyclone. "What man, Saskia?" He growls as his head inclines, eyes on my l

☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ "I am to look into the issue at hand. This classes as a top priority, more so than my initial plans. I must investigate the source of this foul message and the porter, eventually." She steps forward, her rapt attention not deviating from me for a moment. Her countenance crosses into deep contemplation before her question rings through the room. "Do you have any idea who it could be?" "I have many, a mhuirnín. Too many, in fact." It's unfortunate that this happens at a critical time. My agenda for things has taken a different turn, careening off the tracks I'd placed it on. "Okay..." she mutters, and I watch as a fold shutters close, a veil on her emotions. It is transparent in the plays of her eyes, the shadow that cloaks the usual gleam in those emerald jewels. I can tell what she thinks just from her subtle reactions. "It is not about the matter being one that cannot reach your ears, a stòr. If you like, I'll give you a list of suspects. Perhaps that might

☾☾☾ 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