Isabella Carson
I have marked him because at that moment I knew with all my heart that he was just as much as mine as I was his. The passion that we shared wasn't simply a tumble in the sheets. I knew he felt it just as much as I felt it.
The emotions.
The desires.
The need to be together.
It was unexplainable. My love for Malcolm goes beyond what I can hold within my heart. It was as wide as the sea and as high as the sky. Untouchable. Indestructible.
It was late but I couldn't sleep. After we have concluded that I had marked him, I expected him to be angry but then again, he surprised me by not saying anything else. He didn't agree nor did he disagree with what I did.
Slowly, I pushed his arm away from my waist and slipped out of bed. I walked to the window and pushed it opened. The cool night air rushed in the minute I allowed it. I sat on the ledge of the window and looked out into the night.
It was peaceful and quiet but my heart was in turmoil. I love the male lycan sleeping in the bed in this room but I knew I can't avoid my past.
Malcolm might've killed Gregory but there was still one secret left that I held. My father by now must already know where I was. Soon, he will take action and I'm afraid that Malcolm will hand me over once he knows I am no good to him. I am ashamed of my past.
How can I tell the man that I love that my own father imprisoned me and used me just like how Gregory did?
Malcolm will be disgusted with me. He wouldn't want me after I tell him what I have gone through for a decade with my father. I can still remember faintly how often he will come into my bedroom. How he will lock the door and tell me to be a good little girl.
Memories flipped like a switch in my mind and just like that my past rushed forward. I closed my eyes tightly and clenched my fist.
My father touching me. I can still smell the cigar in his breath when he forced kissed me or when he whispered things he will do to me. In front of others, he pretended to dote on me as a father will dote on his daughter. But when we are alone, he was anything but a father.
I hated that I was weak that I could stay for that long. It took me a decade to finally be able to summon enough courage to leave.
Malcolm shifted on the bed and I heard him inhale slowly. I turned around to look at him and saw that he had now flipped onto his back. His chiseled chest completely exposed and the silk sheets barely covered his mid-section.
I stood up and walked back to bed, crawling until I can see his facial features. There was no doubt I will do anything for him. That was why I left. I thought I had seen one of my father's men close to the border.
Feeling extremely overwhelmed, I pushed off the bed, slipped on his soft cotton sleeping robe, and walked to the bedroom door. Surprisingly the door was unlocked. I slipped out of the bedroom hoping to make it down to the kitchen to grab a cup of warm milk.
The sole of my bare feet meeting the cold stone floor as I walked down the second-floor landing and down the spiral stone staircase. I passed the great hall and entered into the kitchen. Most of these castles were very old and rarely updated even when it was in the twentieth century. We still liked the old sturdy keeps that were built from scratch from our ancestors.
The kitchen was just the same an old oven with a firewood stove top. The only new thing about the kitchen was the refrigerator and freezers. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a glass bottle of milk before walking over to the cabinet on top and picking out a glass cup.
YOU ARE READING
Her Lycan✔
WerewolfAny other man I wouldn't be afraid of but Lycan Leader Malcolm's body extrude a kind of confidence and primal power that even I can't ignore. --- Running from a psychotic ex and charging straight into a familiar Scottish Lycan Leader's territory. He...