King Micajah

t h i r t e e n

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t h i r t e e n

The next time she wakes up, she isn't in the hospital room anymore. She's back in her bed, now wearing a shirt that smells of her mate, and some socks. The curtains are drawn wide open, allowing daylight to streak in. Her hair is out, having fallen from the bun. Pulling it to the side, she reaches for the alarm clock. It just hit noon. Her brows raise – she slept very late last night.

The room is empty, but the side next to her is still warm, and she can hear water running from the shower. She feels a lot better today – it was a new day, and a new start. As horrible the events were yesterday, she thinks her bond with Micajah came out a little stronger.

She hops out of bed, heading over to the full length mirror. She lifts the hem of the shirt up to her abdomen, peeling back the bandage. The wound had healed fully – as expected. Her wolf was on good terms with her mate, made a reappearance and hence the quicker healing. Though the wound had healed, there's two deep scars left behind. Her brows frown, finger running over them.

The presence behind her startles her. Her eyes look up in the mirror, the King standing behind her. She'd been so absorbed in looking at her wound, that she didn't notice the water turning off, or him descending behind her.

He isn't looking at her, the silver eyes instead fixed on the scars. His thumb tenderly brushes along the scars, causing her stomach to flutter. His jaw clenches, eyes looking at hers through the mirror, growing lighter and lighter. His dark hair was still wet, and dew drops lingered on his toned body, dripping down his abs and across his deep brown skin.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," is all Adah says, before sweeping past him, and heading straight into the shower without a second glance. Her cheeks are flushed, and her stomach pools with something dark.

Surprisingly he's still there once she's finished. She comes out in a satin robe, her thighs exposed. She's unaware of the heated gaze lingering over them, and the quiet guttural groan following when she bends over to pick a sweater up from the floor to put it away. She heads into the closet, only to emerge with another set of black loungewear on.

Micajah reads his book, glasses propped up on his nose, as Adah diffuses her hair dry, before piling the curls into a high ponytail, sleeking the front back.

They both leave together after that, heading down into the dining room for some lunch. Uriah and Jayden are already there. Over some lunch, they talk about the meeting Micajah called for afterwards, with the rest of the pack, just as Adah had suggested.

"Everyone knows about it. I told them to meet outside of the pack house – there's a podium and isn't an inconvenience for anyone to attend. It's also big enough to accommodate all four hundred of the wolves," Uriah updates them.

"Do you think there will be any issues?" Adah asks, and Uriah shakes his head.

"Nah, these wolves that aren't loyal are sly. They won't do anything upfront, they'll only chat shit behind closed doors," he rolls his eyes, and Adah stifles a chuckle.

"The bodies of the wolves who protested, were sent back to their pack yesterday. For proper funeral rites," Jayden also informs them. Micajah doesn't look up from his plate, his knee bouncing underneath the table.

"And the Alpha's reaction?" is all he says.

"The Alpha didn't say anything. He knew the punishment was in our hands," is all Jayden has to say.