Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty-Two
Resist. Resist. Resist~ Lillyan Elyort.
Lillyan
I wasn’t actually sleeping when he came in. But I pretend to be, just to know how far he can go. I sense every step he takes, every inhale and exhale of breath, and the way his breathing hastens, in fact. I can sense the way he seems to growl—the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest—making heat pool within my legs. I am aware of his pauses as if to ascertain if I’m truly asleep or not. I’m not afraid that my facial expression will give away the fact that I’m pretending. It’s a skill I mastered back in my planet. But when he suddenly stops, leans in and hovers above me, the gentle thuds of my heart against my chest becomes a rough thump that startles me. I’m hyper aware of how close he’s getting, and I’m certain that if I lean up just a little bit, our lips will touch.
All these ends when I open my eyes, and now, he’s gone. I sigh and press my knees to my chest in a sad crouch, my body heat radiating through my own self. The nightmares are still there, and one of them woke me up. Tonight, my father had tears in his eyes. Shocked, I tried to clean them off. I’d never seen my father cry, and my subconscious forgot that it was a dream. Or maybe it was my brain projecting how disappointed in me, I thought my father would be. He didn’t let me touch him, before vanishing from the spot, leaving my hand in the empty air. I woke up with tears in my eyes, and just twenty minutes later, Xander came by. I’m distressed that I don’t know what to do. I want to fuck someone, drink away, swim, play with strands and strands of my magic. Just something to take my mind away from what I’ve done, what I am now, and what I used to be. But I don’t think I have that luxury anymore. I’m afraid drinking alcohol might make me lose control. It’s surprising how long I’ve stayed without a single drop of it. If I was still in my planet, Qyllier might give me a beam or two of approval. But I’m not there, and this is not my planet.
“Uhh,” I groan, running my hand up and down my shoulder. I’ll surely go down in history as the first ex-goddess to run mad, if things progress in this manner. I can’t tell if the triplets are suspecting me about that emissary’s death.
“That can’t be,” I whisper to myself, shaking my head, and trying to relax my weight against the headboard. My bed is queen-size, a pretty thing with faint traces of masculinity. It’s comforting, and a dangerous place for a sleep addict. My mouth water at the thought of gulping down a full bottle of alcohol. I wonder if it even tastes the same as the one we had on our planet. I shake the ridiculous comparison away as soon as it occurs. I don’t think the werewolf world can compare to my planet. After an inner battle with myself, I find my treacherous legs leading me out of my room. I turn back and grab a night robe hanging on the chair and put it on. It’s a precaution just in cause I stumble on either of the triplets. Earlier on, I’m certain Xander saw the entirety of my breasts—nipples aside. That bastard. I’m not particularly ashamed. Nudity isn’t something I’m ashamed of as a goddess. Well, ex goddess.
I hug myself as I step out of my room, hoping that Xander has gone back to his room, and I wouldn’t bump into anyone. My mood is not too great to exchange words with anyone at the moment. I head straight to the kitchen, grab some ice cubes from the fridge, and a bottle of alcoholic wine. I also grab a bottle of what I presume to be whiskey. It has to be. I like the burning aftertaste it leaves, and how dry it leaves the tongue. I sit at the island in the kitchen, my ass relaxing against the chair, and I start with the wine. Gulp after gulp, until the bottle is halfway. Thoughts begin moving fast now, and I exhale slowly. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and pour myself another glass. The wine is sweet, but its intoxication is beginning to kick in. I’m slowly getting tipsy, but I’m not done yet. I want to drink so much that the earth should revolve around me as I move. I miss the feeling. And so I down the bottle to the last drop, then slam my hand on the table. I drink the whiskey next, and to my horror, a lone tear slips down my cheek.
“Father, I miss you,” I whisper, my voice soft and choking. A wrenching pain crawls up my stomach, spreading around my chest and tightens around my neck with the likeness of a tendril around a finger. Wait, finger? I am definitely getting drunk. I leave the empty bottles there, and stumble my way out of the kitchen. I come across a door that looks to be mine, and stumbles in.
I make out the figures perched on my bed, and one on the chair. But why is my bed looking bigger? They turn to look at me.
“Missed your way?” One of them asks. Xavier. I know his curt tone to mistake it for any other.
A hotness spreads around my body. Black sky, I want to jump on them and run my hands on their body. Yup, all of them at once. I’m on the move, swaying to the side, and grabbing the first figure within reach. It’s Xarius. His body is taut beneath my fingers, even stronger and muscular than Carlos. He groans and I know I’m doing it right. I look up to see his eyes burning hungrily.
“You have to stop right now, Lillyan.” He warns hoarsely. My desire gets even stronger. I want to fuck him. I push him back. He’s surprised by my actions, but recovers quickly.
“Lillyan,” he calls out in warning. We are on the bed now, and I quickly straddle him.
“Leave, Lillyan, you’re drunk.” He warns again, but I don’t care. I just want him; want them.