I opened my eyes to the sound of birds chirping, and a wide smile made its way to my face. This sound, which had always reminded me of peace and hope, was more impactful today, as if welcoming my return after a long journey.
It was a wonderful feeling to be back in my familiar bed, in my home, after a month of absence.
I looked at the side of the bed, at the empty space that was once filled with his presence.
He wasn't here, and how much better that was. For every time I remembered him, my heart grew heavy.
I went to my wardrobe, looking for something that expressed me. I chose a long green dress, the color of my eyes, with a daring slit at the thigh. This color, the color of nature and growth, is what I need. After I showered, I left my hair hanging freely and pinned a yellow flower brooch.
Now, I am ready.
I descended the stairs with quiet steps. I caught sight of my mother in the kitchen, her back to me as she prepared breakfast. The sight of her was comforting and reassuring, as if it summarized all the warmth and love in the house.
"Good morning, Mom."
I said in a gentle voice that carried within it a deep longing.
She turned to me with a warm smile, the lines of time etched on her face carrying countless tales of giving and patience.
"Good morning, dear."
She answered me in an affectionate tone, as if her voice was drowning me in serenity. I gave her a spontaneous smile, expressing my happiness at having her by my side.
I sat at the table, and my mother placed a breakfast plate before me. Its scent reminded me of my childhood and all the beautiful times I lived in this house.
"I really missed your cooking, Mom,"
I said sincerely, as I tasted the first bite, which melted in my mouth and filled my heart with warmth.
While eating, I looked around the empty dining room. There was no one but me and my mother, which piqued my curiosity.
"Mom, where is everyone?"
I asked her in surprise while chewing. She answered simply:
"Jack took your mate and left; he said some work or something like that."
After I finished my delicious meal, my mother and I started talking about everything I had missed in the "Pack." It was an intimate conversation that filled my heart with joy and peace.
My mother was telling me all the news, the changes that had happened, and everything I had missed during my absence. I felt as if I was gradually returning to my normal life, to the place where I belong, away from estrangement and painful memories.
After my pleasant chat with my mother, I remembered my close friend Zoe.
I smiled inwardly remembering her reckless behavior, and my intense longing for her overwhelmed everything else.
"Mom, I must go see Zoe,"
I said excitedly.
My mother nodded, smiling.
"Alright, my little girl, but don't be late."
I smiled at her and left the house. I walked through the pack's paths and greeted those I met. Their faces were familiar, and feelings of friendliness filled my heart.
I finally arrived at
"Beta Mark's"
house, which is Zoe's house. I knocked on the door and heard her voice screaming from inside that she was coming.
I laughed lightly, imagining her sudden reaction when she sees me after all this absence. Her voice carried the same vitality and madness I knew about her, and I was sure our meeting would be full of laughter and fun.
I waited eagerly at the door while the sound of her footsteps approached. I couldn't restrain my smile; the idea of surprising her filled me with happiness.
The door opened slowly, and the moment Zoe appeared, I said in a quiet voice full of nostalgia:
"Hello, Zoe."
She froze in her place, her eyes widening in shock, as if she were seeing a ghost. That moment lasted only a few seconds before she erupted into a loud scream, mixed with joy, excitement, and the longing I felt from the depths of my heart.
I also burst into loud laughter; her reaction was exactly as I had imagined. It didn't take long for Zoe to launch toward me like a storm, hugging me so tightly she almost broke my ribs.
"Stop, girl, you're choking me!"
I said between laughs as I tried to loosen her grip.
She laughed too, pulling away from me slightly, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.
"I can't believe you're back!"
She said in a voice choked with happiness, then pulled me inside, closing the door behind us to continue her embrace, but this time more gently.
I felt the warmth of meeting true friends.
Zoe was chattering as usual, moving from one topic to another with non-stop enthusiasm, while I listened to her, smiling and happy to be back in her life-filled atmosphere.
Suddenly, she stopped talking, as if she remembered something. She directed her gaze to my neck, to the mark my mate had left. She looked at it intently, then looked back at me mischievously and said:
"Ooh, I see he marked you!"
I frowned immediately and sighed:
"Zoe, don't start! You know I'm shy about these things."
I tried to change the subject, but her curiosity was stronger. I added with annoyance:
"Besides, we didn't do anything but the marking... he is cold and indifferent."
I was avoiding talking about this subject, but with Zoe, there was no place to hide.
Zoe looked at me in surprise, and her attractive features changed to a serious look:
"Oh... I heard he is difficult to deal with."
I replied quickly with all the frustration inside me:
"Difficult? He's more than that! He treats you with total coldness, then suddenly becomes interested. I'm now sure he has a glitch in his settings!"
Zoe burst into loud laughter and shook her head in mock sorrow:
"God! I hope my mate isn't like him!"
I shared her laughter, and inside, I felt a strange relief; talking about my problems with my best friend was the best medicine.
I lost track of time while chattering with Zoe, as if time had stopped between our laughter and memories.
I didn't realize night had fallen until I looked out the window and saw darkness covering the horizon. I jumped up and said,
"I have to go, it's late!"
Zoe stood up immediately and said:
"I'll walk you."
On our way to my house, she asked curiously:
"How long will you stay here?"
I shrugged, unsure, and answered honestly:
"I really don't know."
The answer expressed my confusion and the lack of clarity regarding the future in my mind.
When we arrived, I pushed the door and stopped for a moment to find everyone gathered in the living room, as if they were waiting for us. I turned to Zoe and said:
"Come on, Zoe, come in."
She followed me inside and greeted them all. While she was exchanging greetings, I sat beside her, ignoring Nate's burning glares.
His gaze was sharp and full of blame, like a fire that would have burned me if it could. Meanwhile, I felt Zoe's hand trembling beside me, indicating she felt the tension and anxiety of this charged atmosphere, or perhaps from Nate's glares themselves.
The scene wasn't just a normal family gathering; it was a field of undeclared conflict. As I sat, I ignored the anger in his eyes that was smoldering.
I realized the reason for his anger immediately; his eyes were fixed on my leg, which was almost bare because of the dress slit.
Inwardly, I smiled with a hidden triumph.
I knew now how I could take revenge for his coldness and neglect. I crossed my bare leg over the other, revealing my thigh completely, which led to his anger escalating gradually and palpably.
I felt victorious seeing the effect of my actions on him.
Zoe tapped my shoulder, and I looked at her questioningly. She said to me through the bond that links us:
"I think he'll kill you because of your dress."
I gave her a wide smile and said to her through the bond:
"Let him burn in hell!"
Zoe replied in terror:
"Damn it, we're going to get killed because of that curse of yours!"
My smile grew wider, then I looked at my brother, who seemed confused, as if he felt the tension filling the room but didn't understand why.
I heard his voice addressing my brother, gritting his teeth as he said:
"Tomorrow we leave."
His tone carried anger he tried hard to hide, but I paid him no attention. I directed my speech to my brother, completely ignoring his presence:
"How is the training?"
My brother stared at me with a strange look, as if he realized what I was trying to do, but he answered:
"I appointed Sebastian in your place; he is doing well."
I replied with a smile, trying to appear more interested in Sebastian than anything else:
"As expected from my dear Sebastian."
I noticed Jack's eyes widen in shock, and I heard the cracking of his knuckles, which made me chuckle inwardly with enjoyment. It was a moment of small revenge, but it was very satisfying.
Suddenly, I heard my inner wolf's voice saying to me:
"You are playing with fire."
I answered indifferently:
"He started it, so let him bear the consequences of his actions."
I knew what I was doing might increase his anger, but I no longer cared. It was a game, and I was ready to win at any cost.
While sitting at the dinner table, I ignored his burning glares, which were following me sharply. He was staring at me, and I was enjoying my mother's delicious food. I said to her with a smile:
"Your cooking always wins, Mom."
And I laughed a little. These moments represented a small victory for me, as if saying:
"I am here, fine, and I don't care about your anger."
After we finished dinner, I said goodbye to Zoe and went to my room. I felt nauseous, perhaps because I had eaten too much food.
As soon as I entered the room, I felt a force pushing me toward the wall, as if it wanted to pin me to it. I felt severe pain, as if my bones had shattered.
He cast his gaze toward my eyes. Anger was smoldering in them, sparks flying from the depth of his eyes. In contrast, I stared back at him with a provocative coldness and calm.
"What the hell are you wearing?"
He said in a hoarse voice, trying hard to suppress his anger. He fell silent for a moment, then continued, his eyes narrowing sharply:
"And who is that bastard Sebastian?"
I answered him with intentional coldness, a cunning smile appearing on my lips:
"First, that's none of your business. And second... mmm, let me guess... he could be my ex-boyfriend."
As soon as I finished my sentence, his eyes ignited in crimson and black, the color of absolute anger that I knew well.
Great, I said to myself inwardly, he is about to lose control completely and will rip out my throat because of my words.
But I didn't care; the feeling of revenge covered everything else.
A powerful, resounding strike broke the silence of the room, turning the wall from a solid mass into scattered rubble, but I didn't move and didn't blink.
I kept looking at him with a lethal coldness, a look empty of any fear, as if his destruction of the wall meant nothing to me.
"Do you have any other questions?"
I asked, my voice carrying a provocative calm.
He clenched his jaw tightly and approached me slowly, filling all the space between us until I felt the bulk of his body and his protruding muscles pressing against me. For a moment, I looked at him in confusion.
"What are you doing?"
I said in a broken voice, but he didn't answer.
He approached closer, bringing his face near mine, his gaze burning with the fire of anger. He kissed me forcefully, a violent kiss that emptied all his anger, until I felt the taste of blood in my mouth.
I tried to push him away from me, but he didn't budge.
He grabbed my hands and fixed me in place, preventing me from moving, while he continued to kiss me brutally, as if he wanted to erase all the resistance inside me.
I surrendered to the force that was suppressing me; all my body muscles relaxed, and a hot tear fell from my eye, accompanied by a light sob, like a silent cry for help.
That sob was enough to bring him back to his senses, to make him realize the scale of what he had done. He pulled away from me quickly, as if I were a fire burning him.
As soon as I felt him pulling away, I looked at him with a look of blame that carried no words but was enough to convey my message:
"Why did you do this?"
I didn't find in his eyes the anger that had been burning moments ago; instead, I found some regret, especially when he saw the blood trickling from my lip. His eyes were full of confusion and pain, as if he regretted everything he had done.
I pushed him away and headed quickly to the bathroom, leaving him alone with his regret. Every step I took carried physical and psychological pain, but I wanted to get away from him, to get rid of his influence over me.
Here I am now in the car, after saying goodbye to everyone, sitting in complete silence. While my eyes were tracing the breathtaking nature behind the window, the feeling of nausea that hadn't left me since yesterday was churning in my stomach.
I sighed faintly, wondering about the cause of this fatigue gnawing at me, but I found no answer.
I looked at him; his focus was entirely on the road, as if I didn't exist. He gave me no attention, as if I were a ghost beside him.
But, suddenly, his features changed. He cast a quick glance at me, then his face wrinkled more, and anxiety occupied his eyes. He stopped the car and turned to me eagerly, saying:
"Do you feel something?"
I, who had been ignoring him the whole way, knitted my eyebrows and nose, surprised by his sudden interest. What is really wrong with him?
I ignored him with deliberate coldness, as if nothing had happened.
He started the car engine, the sound of the departure echoing in the surroundings. He sped off at a crazy speed, as if emptying his anger into the car's speed.
Every now and then, he would throw a quick glance at me, and his features would shift from anger to concern.
I, who was trying to ignore him, felt angry. Does he see me as trash now? Why does he put his hand on his nose and stop himself from breathing? Am I that dirty?
Then I felt sweat and heat seeping through my body.
"What now?" I said to myself. "Why do I feel hot?" I looked at him, and anxiety filled his eyes. He repeated his question again:
"Do you feel something?"
I answered him angrily:
"Some heat. And why are you asking? And why are you putting your hand on your nose?"
I added sarcastically:
"For your information, I showered before leaving."
He gave me a quick glance, but it was enough to see anxiety creeping into his eyes. His words were like an electric shock, waking me from my heedlessness.
"It's the heat."
He said, and that word woke up a truth in me I had completely forgotten.
Then he added sharply:
"Your body is secreting pheromones to attract males for mating, and your scent is driving me crazy."
I felt shame creeping into every cell of my body, and my breath quickened as if I had lost control of everything. I remembered everything and found myself in a predicament I never expected.
Another wave of heat came, and my breath began to quicken hysterically. I felt sweat pouring off me, and my whole body was shaking. Meanwhile, he turned on the air conditioner, looked at me with concern, and said in a gentle voice:
"Just a little longer, bear it."
That moment was a mix of shame and fear, but I also felt some safety, as if I were under the protection of someone who cared for me.
A wave of pain crept into my body, light at first, then its frequency began to increase bit by bit, as if fires were burning in my veins.
My features wrinkled in pain, and my breath panted from the intense heat that swept over me.
"Damn this heat,"
I muttered in a barely audible voice, while the heat was rising and filling my body.
The pain increased and spread throughout my body, and I began to moan in unbearable pain.
"Nate..."
I said in a broken voice, asking for his help. He looked at me with fear and concern, as if he felt what I was going through.
"Just a little longer, come on Sera, bear it,"
he said, his voice trembling, as he encouraged himself and me at the same time.
I started shaking, and I felt my eyelids drooping slowly, as if preparing to surrender. A wave of intense pain swept over me, a pain I couldn't bear, and I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I grabbed my stomach, pressing on it hard, while the sharp pain in my lower abdomen gnawed at me. I was screaming from the intensity of the pain attacking me, while fear and concern controlled him, and the trembling of his hand revealed his real fear.
I began to lose consciousness gradually; the pain and heat were too much for me to bear. I saw him saying something, but I couldn't hear him; his voice became distant and blurred. Signs of panic were clear on his features, as if he were seeing something he couldn't control.
I was panting and trying to breathe, but it became difficult with this high heat.
While the waves of pain were hitting me, I felt the car stop suddenly.
I heard the sound of the door being opened violently, then I felt strong arms carrying me. That carrying wasn't violent; it was tender and full of care.
As soon as he touched me, I felt the pain ease gradually, as if his touch were a balm for my wounds.
I opened my eyes with difficulty and found him before me, holding me tightly, his hand gently patting my cheek. His eyes were full of fear and concern, as if he feared any harm would come to me.
He said in a faint voice:
"I will fill the tub and come."
As soon as he pulled away from me, I felt the pain increase, as if my body refused any touch but his.
He returned quickly to carry me again and placed me in a tub filled with cold water. My body shivered, and I clung to him tightly, gasping from the intensity of the cold.
I felt him; he was bare-chested.
He took off my shirt, and as soon as our bodies touched, I felt the pain ease a little, but it didn't last long before the pains returned to their intensity.
I screamed in pain and pulled him toward me, burying my head in the hollow of his neck.
"Do something, please, this is unbearable!"
I said in a broken voice. I felt him pulling me closer to him, then he began to kiss my neck, specifically on the mark, as if his touches were a cure for my pain.
After feeling the pain ease, I placed my hands behind his head and drew closer to him, as if searching for more comfort. Every touch or kiss from him worked to numb me, as if it were a sedative for my pains.
He looked at me deeply, and my gaze fell on his lips, and I couldn't resist.
I pulled him to me and kissed him with all passion, a kiss that wasn't just a kiss but a mixture of pain and relief.
He returned the kiss heatedly and pulled me closer to him, as if we were emptying all the suppressed feelings into that kiss.
Our lips separated for moments, needing air, as if we were in a race against time. We were panting in numbness, and I felt relief filling every cell in my body.
Suddenly, my features wrinkled from pain again, so he kissed me heatedly again, as if his touches were a cure for my pain.
We were kissing each other passionately, as if it were the last kiss, as if we were in a dream we didn't want to wake up from.
After those passionate kisses, I felt the pain fading bit by bit, as if its fires had been extinguished. My high body temperature gradually decreased, and my body began to relax, as if every cell in it had surrendered to comfort.
We broke from the kiss, and he remained holding me tightly, as if he feared I would slip away from him.
I placed my head on his chest, my eyelids relaxed, and everything around me vanished. I no longer felt anything but the relief that was overwhelming me and the warmth of his body that was wrapping around me.
He carried me and placed me on the bed, burying me in his arms. He held me tightly, while I was completely surrendered to him.
I began to regain consciousness slowly, as if returning from a coma. I was annoyed by the light that seeped through the window and closed my eyes tightly. I buried my head in this warm body that had held me all night, trying to gather my strength and remember what happened.
Heat flowed to my cheeks as I realized I remembered yesterday's events.
I buried my head more in his chest, trying to hide my shame.
I felt his body shaking, so I looked at him, and my red face was before him. He let out his laughter, as if the sight were funny.
My eyes widened in shock.
"My God, he's laughing!"
I said to myself. I heard him say between his laughs: "Cute." My eyes widened even more.
"Since when does Nate flirt with me?"
I said to myself. "I think he hit his head on something, or the heat transferred to him, and he is hallucinating now."
At that moment, I was a mixture of shame and confusion. I didn't know how to act, but I was sure of one thing: that I never want to be in this situation.
The scene was full of tension and escalating fun as he suddenly stopped his long fit of laughter, and his eyes turned toward me with a light smile appearing on his lips. I looked at him with a fake look of disapproval and said:
"No, you've really hit your head on something."
His smile grew wider, and he said in a quiet tone:
"Good morning! Do you feel better?"
I laughed in disbelief at his question and said:
"I'm fine, but I think you're not fine!"
He slowly brought his face closer to mine and whispered in a faint voice:
"I am fine as long as you are by my side."
I felt confused and moved away from him quickly, saying sharply:
"You've really gone mad!"
Then, his eyes slowly drifted down, and my gaze followed them to see what he was looking at. "Damn it!" I was only wearing a bra. I covered myself quickly and shouted at him angrily:
"Yaaa, don't look!"
He gave me a cunning smile this time, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He said in a quiet and annoying tone:
"Why not? I've already seen everything."
He was clearly enjoying teasing me, and that increased my anger.
I didn't give him the chance to say more; I headed quickly toward the bathroom while shouting at him, "Stupid!" My steps were fast and angry, my face turning red with shame and anger at the same time.
As soon as I entered the bathroom, a moment of astonishment hit me. The place is completely strange, not the palace I live in! I wondered to myself:
"Where are we?"
But curiosity soon took over. I showered quickly and put on a bathrobe, then came out to find the room empty.
I headed toward the dressing room, which was full of Nate's clothes. I chose a pair of shorts and a white shirt and put them on in a hurry. I went down the stairs looking for him.
I heard noise coming from the kitchen, so I headed toward the source of the sound.
My eyes widened in surprise and awe at the sight before me.
Nate was cooking, his wet hair dripping onto his body. Water droplets were sliding smoothly over his protruding muscles, which looked massive and sculpted.
He was standing in the kitchen without a shirt, wearing only shorts, busy preparing breakfast.
At that moment, I couldn't hide my feeling of admiration and said to myself:
"Damn! He's sexy as hell."
But I quickly shook these thoughts from my head, approaching him with a more neutral look.
I didn't expect for a moment to see Nate in this situation, cooking quietly and efficiently. I said to him in surprise:
"I didn't expect that the Dark King could cook!"
He looked at me with a smile I wasn't used to from him—a quiet, warm smile devoid of any cunning or arrogance. He answered me quietly:
"Then add this to your dictionary."
I laughed softly at his comment.
I asked him while he was placing the delicious plates on the table:
"Where are we?"
He answered simply:
"In my house."
I knitted my eyebrows in lack of understanding, so he looked at me clarifying:
"It's my private house. Come on, eat your food."
I smiled with excitement; the smell of the food was extremely delicious. I took the first bite while he was eyeing me with expectant looks. My eyes widened in surprise at the deliciousness of the taste, and I said in awe:
"Wow, man! I didn't know you were a skilled cook."
I began to fall upon the plate with complete greed, enjoying every bite. He laughed softly at my open appetite, clearly enjoying my smile and my satisfaction with his food.
After we finished eating, we moved to the garden, where we sat drinking coffee in silence. Suddenly, I felt a strong wave of nausea sweep over me.
I put the cup on the table quickly and placed my hand on my mouth in an attempt to suppress the feeling. He looked at me with extreme concern and asked:
"Are you okay?"
I was going to answer him, but I couldn't speak; I was about to vomit.
I stood up lightning fast, heading toward the bathroom. I vomited everything in my stomach and finally felt some relief.
I washed my face with cold water to regain my balance a bit.
As soon as I opened the bathroom door, Nate was waiting for me there with looks full of concern. He asked me again eagerly:
"What happened? Are you okay?"
I answered him in a faint voice:
"Fine, I think because of what happened yesterday."
His features relaxed a bit after he heard my explanation. He said to me in a commanding but caring tone:
"You must rest."
I tried to refuse and say:
"I'm fine, no need,"
but he didn't listen to me. He pulled me gently toward the bed, sat me on it, and covered me with the warm quilt, making sure I would rest.
I looked at him in surprise, not believing this shift in his behavior. I wondered to myself:
"What is this sudden change? I'm not used to the peaceful and caring Nate!".
This version of him was completely strange compared to the "Dark King" I know.