Game of Thrones (Amica and Deckard) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

1 hear Deckard found her–that wretched conniving bitch. Damn it Why couldn’t she just disappear for good? But no, she had to run back to her es of all people, as if that wasn’t the most predictable move in the book. She’s no fool, she’s smart, calculating, and knows exactly how to play this twisted game.

I thought the little humiliation I threw her way was enough to send her packing for good. Clearly, I underestimated her. And now that she’s back, I can’t shake this bittemess. It burns, festering with every thought of her. Why did Deckard even bother to search for her? We were better off without her. I thought we all agreed on that–so what the hell is he thinking?

I need answers. I need to see Deckard, to look him in the eyes and figure out what’s going on in his head. I need to know where his mind is at and Tremind him. And if she thinks she’s won, she has another thing coming.

I see him storming out of the castle, his jaw clenched and anger radiating off him like a raging storm. That bitch must’ve pissed him off again.

Perfect

one mine

“Deckard “I call cat my voice carrying across the courtyard. His piercing eyes snap toward me, immediately locking onto

“Mary? I need to see you?” he growls, his tone sharp and commanding.

ade him. “I need to see you too, my Alpha. What happened? Why did you go looking for that bitch? I thought we

I rush

sh to him, falling into step beside wanted her gane“”

He stops abruptly, turning on me, his face contorted with fury. “What did you do, Mary? I trusted you with something–told you in condence- and you just couldn’t keep your damn mouth shuth What the hell is wrong with you!” His voice booms, his anger crashing over me like a wave.

I feign confusion, trying to keep my composure: “What, Deckard What are you talking about?” I say, though deep down, I know exactly what he

means

His eyes narrow, his nostrils flaring. “Don’t play dumb with me, Mary. You know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s because of your shit–stirring that Amica ran away! You couldn’t just keep it to yourself, could you? How many people did you tell, bulur”

The venom in his words stings, and I falter slightly under his glare. “Deckard, I didn’t”

“Don’t lie to me!” he cuts me off, his voice a raw snart. “This is why I can never trust you with anything!”

I swallow hard, my mind racing. His anger is palpable, and for once, I feel like the ground beneath me is slipping away.

“What! I didn’t tell anyone, Deckard! I just—”

“Oh, please, shut up”” he snaps, his voice cutting through me like a whip. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? You’ve committed a crime, Mary -a crime! I could have you punished for this! Spreading false rumors about your Luma is a grave offense!”

His voice is low and raspy, vibrating with barely contained rage. It sends a shiver down my spine. He towers over me, his piercing gaze full of fury as if I’m the very embodiment of his disappointment. Then, without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving me rooted to the spot.

My heart feels like it’s breaking into a thousand jagged pieces. I watch him retreat, my throat tightening as tears blur my vision. I want to crawl into a dark comer and cry until the pain stops.

Deckard has never spoken to me like this before. Never. Not even in his worst moods. And now, he’s threatening me–me!-because of her

Does he hate me now? Is this it? Will he ever talk to me again

Amica. That scheming, manipulative woman. She’s succeeded. She’s destroyed everything–everything I had with my alpha. My Deckard

I heard she went back to her mate. Her mate! How can Deckard even consider taking her back after that? When did he become this way?

And he called her his Luna! His Luna. The words echo in my mind like a cruel taunt. What has happened to my Deckard in just a single day!

My heart feels like it’s being crushed under the weight of it all. I can’t bear the thought of him hating me–I’d rather die than let that happen. I have to fix this have to make things right between us.

After spending what feels like hours crying my eyes out, I start to think of ways to repair the damage. But every idea feels too small, too desperate. The thought of approaching him now terrifies me. He’s never scared me before, but the anger I saw in his eyes—it wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment. And that’s worse than anything else.

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