Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
As we neared our euphoria, I could feel it. Feel the magic pulling at us, pushing us to find our release.
“Haven.” I sighed, squeezing her to my chest and looking into her eyes.
Her lips parted, and she rocked faster against me until her walls clenched and pulsed around me. “Oooh,” she sighed, her eyes closing and her neck arching.
Her nipples hardened even more, and as my balls tightened, I found my release. I mimicked her long sigh of pleasure, closing my eyes and focusing on the feel of my mate around me and in my arms and the way our scents combined as we came together on the floor of Selene’s temple.
The magic pulled at me harder, tugging at my mind in my euphoric state. I relaxed into the pull, letting it guide me higher and higher until my mind floated above the stars, and all I could feel was warmth, light, and love.
HAVEN
I floated through a sea of stars, almost weightless, as I descended to the ground below. The fabric of my dress swirled around me as I drifted through the sky, my hand reaching out to touch the stars. I descended in solitude, but in my heart, I felt Wesley’s presence, telling me he was nearby, that I wasn’t truly alone.
The grass beneath my feet, as I landed, was softer than any grass I’d ever felt and greener than any I had ever seen. I spun in place, looking at the surrounding scenery.
In front of where I landed was a dense forest filled with every type of tree and plant imaginable. The colors were vibrant and true, the air clean and clear.
Behind me was an exact copy of the temple we’d been in on the island, only larger and covered with even more jasmine. Through the pillars and floating fabrics of the building, I could just make out a silvery pool on the other side of the temple, shimmering under the light of the stars.
My feet carried me forward to the temple, unable to deny the tug on my soul leading me there. I brushed the fabric out of my way and froze in place, the curtain falling behind me as I stared at the pillars of the temple.
Paintings of two individual girls filled the temple, a portrait of one girl on each pillar, each image depicting a slightly older version of each girl all the way to adulthood. Twenty-one paintings circled from my left, all of a girl with dark black hair, and twenty-one paintings circled from my right, all of a girl with wild red curls, blue eyes, and freckles just across the bridge of her nose.
Me.
I followed the images on my right, watching myself grow up in the paintings that were more realistic than actual photographs. Each one depicted an important moment in my life, and I relived them all as the painted version of me grew older—my first dance recital, the year I danced Clara in The Nutcracker, the day I was offered my apprenticeship—all of them commemorated in these paintings in the temple.
The last one was me—the now me—in front of a moon, in silvery clothing. A crown of golden flowers and leaves adorned my curls, and flowers were strewn throughout the strands that blew in the wind. An otherworldly glow emanated from my skin.
I reached out to touch it, to feel the paint beneath my fingertips and see if I could sense the magic within the image.
“Haven?” Wes’s voice called out as I touched the painting in front of me.
“I’m in here,” I murmured, my voice catching.
It didn’t matter, though. With his hearing and his sense of smell, he could find me easily. He would always find me.
His heavy footsteps sounded from behind me, dampened by the grass at first and then louder as they touched the marble floor of the temple. Then his footsteps stopped, and I turned around to find him frozen in place, just as I had been when I first entered the temple.
He, too, was dressed in the pants he’d worn before we did the ritual. And in this place, in this magical realm on the moon, he somehow appeared stronger, more handsome than on Earth. It was as if being here augmented his already enhanced looks and strength.
His eyes bounced around, taking everything in, examining the paintings. His gaze circled the temple, following the timeline of the little redheaded girl. As if moving on their own, his feet carried him through the temple, and he stopped right behind me, staring up at the newest portrait of me.
“It’s you,” he murmured, reaching to touch the painting just as I had done.
He looked down at me as I nodded, a question in his eyes, but I couldn’t answer it. My thoughts and feelings were jumbled like a spilled bag of Scrabble tiles. I couldn’t sort through it all fast enough.
His arms wrapped around me from behind, cradling me against his chest. His touch said more than words could, showed me he understood the conflicting thoughts in my head. He just held me, just stood with me as we stared at the painting, his chin resting on my head and his warmth and nearness providing more stability than ever.
“It’s me,” I said, closing my eyes and leaning my head more into him.
“I add a new pillar and a new image every year on your birthday. After this year, yours will outnumber your sister’s.”
Both of us turned our heads to the left, where we found an ethereal woman walking towards us. Her silvery hair flowed down her back almost to her ankles, and she wore swaths of white fabric wrapped around her body. Her features were severe yet beautiful, as one might expect from a god or goddess. Not unkind, not malicious, but sharp and keen.
Wesley stood straighter behind me, his body stiffening and his muscles tensing, on alert in the presence of the goddess who had blessed his people.
My blood sang, and my cells vibrated and pulsed in her presence, as if every part of me reached out for her, begged for me to connect with her and know her.
But I didn’t move. I stayed where I was, staring at her as she stopped in front of the pillar of the dark-haired girl.
“Your sister—Asteria—was only twenty-one when she died,” she said, looking towards the painting. “And that is why my warriors find their mates when they are twenty-one years of age,” she continued, turning back to us.
“So—so I am your daughter?” I asked, still frozen in place in the safe circle of my mate’s arms.
A sad, wistful smile graced her face. “Yes. You are.”
Stories are told of adopted children meeting their birth families for the first time. The tears, happiness, and love they experienced during their reunions were beautiful and filled children with hope.
But I had never had dreams of meeting the woman or people who abandoned me with nothing but a blanket. Nothing but a name. I had no want or desire or need to know the woman in front of me, to forge some sort of relationship with her. I was only here for answers, answers my mate and I needed to move forward with our lives.
We stared at each other, and silence filled the temple as we all waited for someone to speak. Wesley tightened his hold on me, pushing strength and confidence into me through our bond. Giving me just enough to push me to ask what I needed to know more than anything else.
“Why did you give me up?” I asked, my voice shaking more than I wanted it to.
She sighed and looked down at her hands. “I had to. I wasn’t allowed to raise you because you were not the child of two gods.”
“What do you mean?” Wesley asked.
“We used to walk freely among the people, but eventually, we had to remove ourselves. I was already here, in my realm, when Zeus gave the orders, but others were still on Earth, still walking among the humans. When we retreated from Earth, Zeus also decreed that any child not born of two gods would not be allowed in our realms either.”
“So, who is my dad?”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?