The Last Daughter

Chapter Twelve: I change my mind!

Xyra's viewpoint

   I've had a lot of comfortable sleeps, but none surpass the one I had. I was fully aware of the fact that I was not in my bed. I had woken up at the early hour of the day, when the first cock crowed. Before I opened my eyes, I did a quick mental recap on why my room smelt different. Once everything came back to me, I realise I was too comfortable to be alone. Being in his bed was one thing, but the comfortability was too much. Then I pried my eyes open and faced the reality of my fact.

He slept beside me.

   At first, I wanted to panic that he might have marked me, or worse! Then Majesty snap that I should be quiet and let her sleep. She assured me nothing happened and then commanded me to go back to sleep and enjoy the moment. I would have argued, would have fought with her, but it felt so good, too good. I'd never felt that way before, and it made me want to be able to sleep and wake up with that feeling for the rest of my life.

   I finally understood what April and mom kept talking about. It was insanely cool. You get to have that one person that is meant for only you. That one person to make you feel special because out of all the women in the world, the goddess saw you were best for him. You get that excitement of the bond buzzing inside you and getting stronger every time you make physical contact. You get to dwell and relish the feel of his hands allover you, his body just for you. We might not have done anything other that cuddle, but I was feeling that way already. Now imagine we do, I wouldn't be able to let go.

Attach, I was already attach.

   I didn't want to sleep, so I told Majesty that I want to watch and admire what was ours. She was more than happy to oblige to that decision. We enjoyed studying every single corner of his face, every little itsy bitsy birthmark on his face, the scar behind his ear that trailed down his neck to his shoulder blade. I was worried when I saw the scar, but then got distracted by the sight of his bare shoulder girdle. My eyes went wide as I stared at it with bewilderment. I almost couldn't fight the urge to trace the thick perfectly sculpt shoulders with my fingers. His shoulder girdle suited his thick neck perfectly, too perfectly.

   He had "Son Of Fire" tattooed on his left glenohumeral joint, with thick gold ink and it was written in Latin. The writing connected to the gold tail of a Chinese dragon which went on to wrap itself around his arm and to his forearm where it head was that of a lycan's head blowing thick gold and orange flame into his wrist. The flame wrapped around his wrist before it curled up at the middle of his palm. I didn't understand the tattoo, not one bit. But the gold and the way it twisted almost seemed magical. I felt the irresistible urge to touch it, and I did because like I said, irresistible urge.

   I gasped when I touched it. Power flowed into my body from it, hot power that almost seemed like it would have destroyed me if I wasn't powerful myself. The wolf dragon moved and danced from his hand to the middle of his bare chest where it curled into a ball and disappeared along with the writing. I would have paid attention to it if I wasn't distracted by the new work of art in front of me. He was shirtless and all mine to adore. I looked around and saw his muscle shirt at the edge of the bed, meaning he took it off somewhere along his sleep.

   That aside, I adored him. I discovered every nook and cranny of his front torso, memorised his abs, the lines, the battle scars, the birthmarks and the itsy bitsy freckles. I only willed myself to stop when I reached the hem of his sweatpants, and saw the sweet 'V' leading to the world beyond. For the first time in my entire life, I felt my hormones rise up against me, rise up to testify of the new bond buzzing in me. I kept my eyes there for minutes, mind wandering to places I never knew it could drift to.