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.

chicken to make a hearty soup for Hertha-help with

Falconer, you missed out on the meal last

Confronted with the chicken's beak, Alaric's deep-seated fear surfaced. He dodged behind Thalassa, panic-stricken, urging Spencer,

had gotten into

C

FAVOURITE GAMES ON

her hands, his voice quivering with urgency. "Give this to Hertha

the engine, and sped

baffled.

and graceful Alaric Falconer, always suave and a bit wicked, had bolted in

want to laugh,

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

Comments ()

0/255