Being thrown to the wolves is a death sentence.
Adalia knows that all too well, since she witnessed her own father being slaughtered in that same unmerciful way.
Living life as a meek slave in a kingdom full of royals, Adalia has no rights and is tr...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The sun rose from its slumber slowly, painting the clouds with hues of pink and splattering an array of oranges across the sky. The two colors blended, melting into one, creating a marvelous scene to awaken to.
Adalia stirred in her lover's arms, she was curled tightly into him. He was practically wrapped around her and she groaned softly, caught amid consciousness and unconsciousness. Their legs were tangled together, their nakedness a reminder of last night's love and passion. The chill of the early morning tickled her bare skin, winter's frosty breath tangled her hair and blew through the trees like an intricate song.
Her eyes fluttered open, the light of day revealed itself to her. The early morning produced a gentle light that wasn't harsh on her eyes, and she enjoyed the euphoric feeling of being trapped in her mate's arms.
She felt protected and at peace with herself and the world around her.
The majestic beauty of nature that lived in harmony with the frigid temperatures danced and played around her, but out of all the beauty she saw, she found Maverick to be the most spectacular.
She intertwined one hand into his hair, stroking softly as he awoke slowly. His eyes were hazy, a certain gentleness lingered there and he sought out her hand. She gave it to him and let her face drift closer to his, her eyes shining like stars and his shining like emeralds. She kissed his lips softly, the overwhelming feeling of love seized her heart in a vice-like grip.
When their lips parted, he held her face in his hands and stared intently in her eyes. His hair messy, the stubble on his chin rough, and the expression on his face enthralling.
He never knew he could cradle the world in his arms until now.
He studied the faint speckles of orange in her irises, the small curve of her nose, the softness of her lips. Her wavy, red hair fell down her back in waves and her battle scars were etched above and through one of her eyebrows.
Maverick knew that he could have mistaken her for a goddess.
His goddess.
He held his world in his hands and kissed her again, enjoying the way sparks and shivers made him tremble from touching her. Goosebumps spread across the expanse of her skin and she nuzzled his neck in a display of affection. "Mi Lakraya, are you hungry?" He asked.
She loved the nickname he had given her, but she never knew what it meant. "What does it mean? Mi La-kray-a." She sounded it out as best she could, but his native language was difficult to learn and pronounce. It felt weird on her tongue.
"It means my lamb. My little lamb, so soft, so pure." He said against the skin of her neck, letting his lips glide to her mark.
She smiled against his tender touch and decided she quite liked what it meant. The couple radiated light, they seemed to be glowing as they embraced each other. They enjoyed the silence around them, studying the noise nature composed.
