◆ The Alpha's Undying Love ◆

× WARNING! × GRAPHIC NSFW CONTENT BELOW INTENDED FOR MATURE READERS ×

◆ MAGNUS ◆

"Bad dreams again, dear?"

"What's new..."

"What about?" Evonne asked as I rubbed the stupor out of my face.

Her murmured question made me sit up beside her half-naked and pale figure on the soft covers. The room stayed dim as I tried to decipher the strange images in my head. Images that the new dreams had planted into my consciousness.

It was not a matter of "what" but a matter of "who". Again. Maybe the "where" bore a bigger significance this time, too. Maybe not.

I didn't really care. "I'm not sure," I sighed after glancing at my wife's curious stare. The kind that studied every bit of my face to gauge my state of mind and the sincerity in my words.

Like always, the visions came through in lengthy dreams. Sometimes they were hazy, short, and scrambled.  But often complex and memorable.

For someone who had been having them since childhood, I should be so used to them at this point. But I never wished for this ability. The visions almost always came true. At times they disrupted my best laid plans, too.

My dear wife was often fascinated with them. Evonne thought it was one of the reasons why I was special. Not of this world. Her relentless optimism made me wish I viewed the world through her eyes. "Nightmarish again? Or just plain weird?"

I glanced down at her soft, warm hand caressing my bare thigh under the blanket.  "Bit of both."

"Sorry."

"Why're you apologizing?" I forced a smile and looked into her eyes.

"Because it's visibly troubling you."

"They're just...strange."

"Strange how? Who was in the dream?" she mumbled with knitted brows as dark as her wavy hair splayed on the white pillows.  A pinch of apprehension thinned her groggy voice. "Was I?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay."

"Why?" I palmed the side of her small, pale face while her hand snuck under the covers to stroke the front of my  boxers. My breath hitched when she didn't stop.

Her slow and sensual touches shot a familiar sensation down my back and  groin. She timidly smiled and blushed when I gradually stiffened up beneath her palm and dainty fingers.

If this was her new way of calming me down after another bunch of weird, disturbing dreams...  I wasn't going to complain. Her sex drive lately just impressed me.

It was unusual. Almost intimidating. Must be the medication's fault. The lacking physical intimacy throughout our relationship didn't singlehandedly fracture our marriage. But now that she's desperate to get pregnant, I just conceded to the reality that I should've paid more attention to her emotional and physical needs.

"You wanna be in them?" I muttered while I caressed her beautiful and naked shoulders.

"Sometimes."

"You are."

"But you never tell me about 'em." Evonne pouted.

"They're boring. Most of the time I just forget the details."

"Sure. But tell me what they're about." A tight smile curved her pinkish lips as we stared at each other. She was straddling me now. Her slim arms wrapped around my back while I tried to sit still.

I wasn't that hard yet, but the softness of her bare chest against mine  reminded me of the things we did last night. Even after eight hours of sleep, my hips and legs still felt tired.

Today would be her ovulation according to the precious little calendar on her phone. But it's clear she wanted to try again, just in case. As if she hadn't had enough pain and disappointments for staying married to me for more than a decade already.

It's disturbing how much pain she's willing to go through just to achieve her goal.  I left a few bruises on her thighs again. Not intentionally.  It was that long night after I got back from another business trip. "Sorry." I stroked her thigh while staring at the small purplish spots.

"I'm fine."

"Agree to disagree."

"You worry too much." Evonne caressed my cheek, her nose touching mine as she sat on my lap. "I'm not a delicate piece of china, my love."

"Because I should." I matched her narrowing gaze, her scent still as sweet as yesterday. Her reminder made me chuckle for a second, but not out of pure amusement.

Rough sex didn't bother her anymore. Like she didn't care as long as I got her pregnant. It's part of the reasons I didn't sleep with her often. Hurting her in bed never gave me self-satisfaction.

"You don't have to."

"What d'you want for breakfast?"

"Changing the subject again," she murmured to my lips, her breath and groin warmer than usual.

A good sign. No worrying hormonal changes yet, either. Our reproductive health wasn't absolutely in the crapper yet.

"Who was in your dream?"

"People you shouldn't meet."

"Intriguing," she whispered with a smirk.  "Go on."

"The Falcos."

"Okay. Was your sister in the dream, too?"

"No. But her boyfriend was," I muttered while gripping my wife's curvy hips, her lacy underwear rubbing against my crotch, warming me up and tempting me to put her on her back again.

"That long-haired painter?"

"Yeah."

"Who was he with? Was he alone in your dream?"

"No." I closed my eyes and leaned my back against the cold wall, recalling as much detail as my sleep-muddled brain could. "Some SWAT-looking guys were raiding an estate. The Carabinieri, I suppose."

"Arresting who?"

"Not sure, darling."

"What else?" Evonne slowly whirled my hair around her fingers. Then her hot tongue traced my jaw before licking my earlobe.

"There's this maze. A big one. With a secret passage in the middle. I guess it's an underground bunker. Mostly steel."

She kissed my cheek. "Suspicious, but, very interesting."

"It's like they built a house in it. A few rooms, a kitchen, a bathroom. It looked old, but, maybe it's still down there."

"The cops went down? In the bunker?"

"No. It was like, Falco's kid just found it."

"Stefano Falco's son?"

"Yeah. He had some blood on his hands and face, then he finds Stefano." I pressed my fingers onto my eyes to recall the distinct images. "They argue for a bit."

"You couldn't hear what they were talking about?"

"No. That part's blurry." I massaged my forehead as my eyes stayed shut.

"What did the new hacker say? They traced your sister's bloodline?"

"For the most part," I muttered. "Mykaela is the great-granddaughter of Emira Falco's only aunt, Angelika."

"Who?"

"Emira, Stefano's mother. Some birth records Niccolo's friend dug up, seem to prove that Angelika was Ilya's grandmother. Mother's side. Angelika was adopted and taken by the Mihajlovićs to Serbia during the war."

"Meaning..." Evonne squinted at me, her voice still raspy, her tone genuinely curious. "Stefano's son and your sister are...third degree cousins?"

"Or second."

"Did Nicco's friend send anything else?"

"Copies of the birth and adoption papers. Some wrinkled news articles. A few photos of Stefano's mother. Mykaela's features look somewhat Asian because of her mother, but she looks like Emira."

"Wait. Does Ilya know he and Stefano are distant cousins?"

"Maybe."

"Odd." Evonne let out a scoff and distractedly stared at my bare chest. "Strange, small world."

"Ilya wants me back in Belgrade next week."

"Fine. We'll go," she murmured with a bored look drawing fine lines on her ivory-smooth skin.

"And I gotta meet up with Niccolo and Ricchar Falco this week. In Nice. Maybe Stefano's son would be there, too."

"Fine..." Evie drawled. "I'll go with you."

"Fine?" I squinted at her. "You sure?"

"Only if you promise, that we'll keep trying, and trying...until I give you your first child." She kissed me on the lips. "Argue with the wall."

"Whatever helps you sleep better." I chuckled when she rolled her eyes.

They looked slightly puffy like her pretty lips. "Did Ilya call again?"

"He wants me to convince Mykaela to pay him a visit."

"Where?"

"Belgrade. Without the Falcos and without Luciano's son." I sighed. "Then he said we can go over the will."

"I only saw a few photos of them."

"Who?"

"The Falcos. The Tomassinis are hard to find online, too."

"Yeah. They pay a lot to keep it that way."

"Stefano looks like a real creep."

I chuckled. "Kindly elaborate."

"His eyes are just... There's nothing in there." Evonne shrugged, her pout making me want to kiss her senseless. "Scares me more than your father, honestly."

"Why?" I sniffed her soft hair and warm breath. Her scent smelled of anxiety sweat and bitter pills. Her fertility meds.

"He looks like the type who would chop someone up, put them in his freezer in separate containers, then eat them throughout the year."

I almost laughed. Her graphic words and grossed out face made me grin.

"On the outside, sometimes he looks normal," she mumbled with another scowl. "Good-looking, in fact."

"He thinks he's still living in the '80s. He personifies that 'greed is good' hedonism." I grinned. Funny how he and Ilya were not much different. Must be why they hated each other to this day.

"I read he and his wife grew up Catholic." Evonne scoffed.

"She seems sensible, but not as shrewd."

"I hope not as submissive as I imagine."

"What about me?"

"What?" Evonne pinched my chin as she looked into my eyes.

"You're not scared of me?"

"No." She giggled and kissed me on the lips again, her gentleness and caresses just teasing my patience.

I could rip her clothes to shreds right now just to have another taste of her undeniable heat. But I loved how she's prolonging the foreplay to get my mind off my problems. "I've done more unholy things than you could count." I kissed her soft mouth and pulled away to stare at her angelic features.

Even after everything we'd been through, and despite having seen dozens of more beautiful faces, every time I saw her, I always thought I'd never get tired of looking at her.

"Strange that you haven't slapped divorce papers onto my face yet." I traced her lips with my thumb.

"You like making money too much but you're not a sadistic, remorseless killer, sweetheart." She feigned a smile and resumed stroking me underneath my boxers. "And as much as I hate it when you get too busy to call, can't imagine being married to someone else."

"Glad to hear." I kissed the tip of her pointed nose.

"Don't ever leave me again. Or I'll haunt you in your sleep every night."

I laughed.  "I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Roiz." I licked her lips while she pretended to frown at me.

Day by day, I still hated myself for contemplating getting a divorce last year. She'd argued that she was failing me as a wife. Only because she hadn't given me a child yet. But Evie didn't have horrid genes. And she was capable of bearing a child. If not, the doctors would've informed us years ago.

It's worse that we're both past 40. Fertility peaked our marital problems at the moment, but, IVF was still a viable option. I would have to convince her to take that route if her next doctor's appointment gave us another bunch of bad news.

A long shot, but,  seeing her depressed always upset me. From here onwards, I would do anything just to make her happy. Content. No longer anxious or lonely. I owed it to her.

For putting up with my shit for more than a decade, I should give her everything she wanted and needed. Sometimes I felt like I didn't deserve her, but she's still here.  Right beside me every step of the way.

I guess that meant our love for each other never waned.

"Darling, stop overthinking," she murmured. Then she backed off to put her soft, beautiful mouth on my shaft.

I tried to sit still as I held my breath. Her hand and hot tongue pleasured me until my chest and gut wrenched.

She didn't stop. Her little moans only made me clench my fist under the covers to stop myself from grabbing her hair. As my breaths grew shallow, her warm mouth licked and tasted every inch of me, just testing my self-control bit by bit, pushing my restraint to its limits.

Fuck. She's perfect in every way.

I'd never trade this for anything else.  Never again.

No matter what happened, we'd stick it out.

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