Evanora Cordelia Magnus, a twenty-two year old elemental witch, was only a child when her mother was forcefully taken away from her.
Destined to become the queen of witches, she trained for years before finally accepting her position as the crown pr...
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After Selene explained to Conrad and Marcus about dark witchlings, he insisted on rescheduling the meeting. I was still feeling a little disturbed, so I agreed with him. At the moment, we were in our room with him doing his alpha work. I was just observing him. He sat on a chair in the corner of our room, flipping through the pages of a file. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and every few minutes, he would run his hand through his hair as if frustrated about something.
"How long do you plan to stare at me?" Conrad asked without looking up from his file. I wasn't shocked that he knew I was staring. I would have been shocked if he didn't realise that I was staring.
"What are you frustrated about?" I asked, ignoring his question. He looked at me as if I was an idiot for even asking that question. "What?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"Nothing," he sighed and went back to his work. My brows furrowed to form a frown; I was genuinely curious about what he meant, so I got up and stood in front of him. He was still looking at his file, the same file he had been staring at for the past forty-five minutes. I knew he had his Alpha King duties, and I genuinely didn't want to interrupt him, but he was clearly disturbed, and I had a suspicion that it wasn't related to work. I took his hand and motioned for him to follow me.
"Tell me what's wrong?" I asked when we both were comfortably seated on his bed. He sighed and ran his right hand through his hair again.
"Why are you so closed off?" he asked with his grey eyes looking as intense as thick prowling clouds in a thunderstorm.
I was surprised to hear him ask that question, but I tried my best to maintain a poker face. "What do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance. I knew exactly what he meant. He raised his left eyebrow to give me a look that said I know that you know, in response to which I blinked a couple of times, trying to give him an innocent expression. He replied with a clenching of his jaw and a look that said Really? Again, to emphasise my innocence, I blinked a couple times. He sighed for the third time and shook his head. This time when he looked at me, determination shone in his eyes. I wasn't quite prepared for the speech that followed his determined look.
"Look, Nora," he said, "we both know that you wanted to avoid me when we first met. I would have really let you go if you had decided that you don't want to come with me. But you said that you would give me a chance... give us a chance." He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. "If you decided to give this a chance, then at least try to lower your walls. Don't run away from me; ask a question about anything you want to know, and I will gladly tell you. Don't you think I saw how you looked at my house? Questions were practically written on your face, but you didn't ask. Why?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.
"Because that wasn't my business. I didn't want you to think that I was forcing myself into your life!" I answered without looking in his eyes. I didn't know what else to tell him. I didn't know how to form my emotions in words for him to understand. How could I put my guard down when throughout my life all I had known was putting it up higher? Before I could withdraw my mind from its far places, his arms were around me, pulling me closer. I felt a rush of calmness, a cascade of warmth that left me limp in his arms. He bent me back across his arm and kissed me, slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His thumb started to caress my cheek as our breaths mingled. I ran my fingers down his back, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us.
The kiss obliterated every thought; the worries of the day vanished like an angry fairy. I had no intention for this kiss to end. In moments, the soft caress of his lips became more fierce, more passionate. All I could focus on was Conrad, on the soft moan he’d just made, on how he tasted like hot chocolate on rainy evenings and dry autumn air. An assortment of feelings engulfed me completely. When we broke apart, I rested my forehead against his and gathered some much-needed oxygen.
"My life is your business," he whispered. "It hurts when you say it isn't because it should be. I know you're distancing yourself intentionally. Please don't do it."
I closed my eyes and sunk into his hold, letting the tears fall silently onto his chest.
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