Thalassa spun around, and there was Spencer, sporting a crisp blue shirt and slate-gray slacks, striding toward her with a plump chicken in his grasp.

Relief washed over Thalassa as she greeted him, "Spencer, did you go grocery shopping?"

Spencer?

The name struck Alaric like a hammer to the heart, his steps faltered, and he turned, the carefree smirk wiped clean off his face.

Indeed, Spencer approached, a lively hen clutched in his hand.

Alaric's gaze fixed on the chicken's clucking beak, a shiver running down his spine, his skin crawling with goosebumps. Rooted to the spot, paralyzed with dread, he couldn't move an inch. Since childhood, Alaric had harbored an irrational fear of beaked creatures, chickens most of all!

And now, as fate would have it, Spencer was parading the very object of his phobia. Alaric felt trapped, his blood running cold with alarm.

Hertha-help with her recovery," Spencer said, reaching Thalassa's

Alaric not too far off, he added, "Mr. Falconer, you missed out on the meal last time.

Alaric, chicken in hand. Confronted with the

earth had gotten into

C

FAVOURITE GAMES ON

out, Alaric thrust something into her hands, his voice quivering with urgency. "Give this to Hertha for

another word, Alaric fled to his car, revved the engine, and sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust

there, baffled.

suave and a bit wicked,

and Thalassa couldn't help but want to laugh, having never seen this

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255