King Micajah

t w e n t y - e i g h t

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t w e n t y - e i g h t

The news broke as a surprise to them all, and the shock of having been lied to for all this time hadn't even sunken in yet. Even though they were still reeling from this, gears in their heads still turning, sleep called out to them all. They had been exhausted from the events of the day – holding an informal gathering was a lot of work, and mingling took a lot of effort and energy.

Adah slept like a baby. That was the only way she could describe it. She hadn't felt so well rested, so put together and just whole in a while, and that was all she could feel when she did wake up. She figured out why she felt that good pretty quickly – she had slept well past after noon, and it was now just a little after lunch. The side next to her was empty – Micajah must've gotten up at a normal time, and let her sleep in. His side was now stone cold and smooth as if it had never been touched.

After taking a quick shower, and slipping into some loungewear, she makes her way to Micajah's office, where she assumed he was.

Sure enough, there he was, surrounded by stacks of paper that yielded high. His hair was really messy, as if he'd been running his fingers through them for a while. His features are stoic, and thick, black framed glasses sit upon the bridge of his nose. He's currently on the phone, voice low, tine serious.

Adah doesn't bother to listen in. She pads her way over to him, standing behind his sitting form. Her fingers run through his hair, massaging his scalp, playing with the soft lock. She kisses the back of his neck occasionally, her arms wrapped lazily around the front of his chest. She can feel his skin warming up under her touch, easing out, his body responding to her almost immediately.

The phone gets put down eventually, and with one swift motion a strong arm pulls Adah, and she's on his lap. He gives her a grin, fingers tilting her chin up so her lips can meet his. She smiles, cuddling close into him. His fingers draw circles on her back, in smooth, slow and rhythmic motions.

"Who was that?" her voice is soft, her fingers picking up his hand and bringing it up to her lips to give it a kiss, before holding it tight.

His features are intently on her, the silver basking in all of her presence. His features are light with amusement, watching her dark eyes peek up at him, narrowing playfully.

"It was the last pack to call back," he tells her, pulling her a little closer. It takes her a moment to realise he meant out of the eleven that had attended yesterday.

"What's the verdict?" she sighs.

"Six of them have sided with us five of them haven't," he murmurs, and her soft brows furrow in thought.

"But the evening went so well," she trails off, voice breathy and a little confused. Micajah only shrugs.

"I'm not worried. Overall, there are 16 packs against us. There are fourteen packs, and our own, so fifteen with us. It's not too bad, considering we have Rehan's numbers. It's somewhat even," he explains, and she nods, now not worried because he isn't.

"I wanna go on a run later," she murmurs after a moment, lulling against the steady beat of his heart underneath his chest. His eyes slit back down to hers, before going back to his paperwork.

"We can both go on a run. My wolf would like that," he gives her an almost timid smile, his head thinking about it. His wolf was rejoiced, now clambering excitedly inside, begging to bet let out right at that instant.