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❝...she was afraid of heights, but she was much more afraid of never flying...❞ - atticus 

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I woke up to a pounding headache. 

Initially,  my first thought was that I had one too many champagne flutes the night before. It took me a few moments of blinking up at the ceiling to piece together what happened just before I lost consciousness. 

My father is going to kill me.

I groaned loudly, slamming my hands down at my sides for dramatic affect. The satin sheets skimmed the tips of my fingers, causing me to tense up. I had long ago replaced my bedding from the standard garnet colored satin sheets all the pack rooms had, instead opting for an ivory silk. Sawyer thought I was being ridiculous at the time, but I couldn't help but think my parent's taste in décor was just a tad bit too tacky for my taste. 

I suppose my father's wrath is the least of my concerns. At the moment, I'm far more concerned about who's room I'm in. 

It didn't take long to figure that one out, though. As soon as my senses adjusted, I was bombarded by the aroma of fresh ground coffee and cinnamon. It tickled my nose like a pesky itch. Unlike the night before, I didn't feel the overwhelming urge to hurl myself away from the familiar scent. The aftermath of the Alpha command must have warn off over the course of the night, leaving me free to make my own decisions. 

I'm sure as soon as father realizes he'll be quick to command me again, forcing me under his wishes. 

"You're awake, finally. It's nearly noon." 

I waited a moment, letting his comment fester in the air before pulling myself up in the bed to find him. He was situated in the far corner of the room, perched on an arm chair. He clearly had been up for hours already, freshly shaven and dressed in a pristine suit. He raised an eyebrow at me in question when I didn't immediately answer him, just simply staring back. 

"Sorry councilmen, I totally forgot to set an alarm last night before I passed out." I sarcastically responded after I realized the weight of his stare was too much to ignore. 

He narrowed his eyes at my tone, leaning forward slightly in his seat. "You can drop the pleasantries, princess. The doors closed. My names Niko." He hummed out in response, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Does your head hurt? You hit the ground quite hard." 

Something about the way he said his name, mixed with his patronizing-yet-sexy nickname was really doing something to my heart. At this point, my heartbeat can star as the base drop for an EDM sound-track. 

At the mention of my tumble, I was reminded of my headache. Subconsciously, my left arm swung up to feel the back of my head, moving around the tangled hair to find a tender bump. I hissed in pain at the contact, letting my hand drop to my lap.

"Did you even try to catch me? I'm probably operating with a full on concussion."

"Try?" He snorted, rolling his eyes at me. "I didn't expect you to just fall on the floor."

His comment really irked me. Does he think I expected, or enjoyed, passing out due to the pain he was causing me? I told him to back off, it's not my fault he didn't catch the memo. I made it pretty clear I didn't want him to touch me, mate or not. 

"Whatever," I mumbled under my breath, pushing the tacky satin sheets to the side. I was silently thankful that I still had on the clothes from last night. The only thing I was missing was a pair of shoes. It was a bad habit of mine, but I loved to walk around the pack house barefoot. It made it feel more home-like to me and not just a house governed by rules and guards. 

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 02, 2020 ⏰

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