THE ISLAND WOLF - EPISODE 68

Her heart stopped working and she felt everything become so silent. She looked into Dakar’s eyes with courage and surprisingly, she felt familiar with them. Those green orbs stared back at her in an intense way.
“You are beautiful, Fiorella,” he muttered loud enough for her to hear. She gulped down and exhaled.
“Prince Dakar, you truly don’t remember me?” she asked.
His eye brows furrowed.
“What do you mean?” he asked, not changing their position by the wall.
“I… Well, you and I are…,” she trailed off again, not knowing what else to say to make some sense.
“You don’t seem familiar and I haven’t dealt with a human this young before. What makes you think I know you?” he asked.
“My island wolf,” she pronounced and stared deep into his eyes. Dakar felt that gaze, his insides churned. His right hand moved involuntarily and cupped her face. His face moved swiftly and he captured her lips, kissing her ravenously like she was a tough prey. He didn’t know why he moved that way, but he didn’t want to stop. Avril on the other hand was as stiff as a rock. She was shocked, not because he was kissing her but because of the circumstances surrounding the kiss. Had he regained his memory? She felt his hand on the wall move to her head and hold her hair.
His fingers grazed her scalp and his right hand tilted her head to the left. She didn’t kiss him back, maybe she was still shocked. But his kiss was not ending, and her body was slowly accepting the turn of events. She moved her lips a bit and was about to kiss him back but he pulled away. His deep breaths grazed her skin and she saw his chest rising and falling. He smirked at her.
“I like that name; Island Wolf. What if I ask people to start calling me that?” Dakar asked. Her chest rose and stayed like that. So he didn’t kiss her because he remembered?
“It’s fine. The name is fine,” she said with a fake smile. He nodded and took three steps away from her. She straightened up from the wall and looked at the floor.
“Hungry? I cook,” he said.
“I know,” was her answer.
“Everybody knows,” he chuckled and walked back to his closet. He pulled the door and walked in. Avril fanned herself with her hands and took deep breaths. What was she going to do to make him remember her? She bit her lips and looked around the room. There was nothing that resembled his life on the island. But there had to be something, right? Even though it was just one. She looked at his study table and saw a folded piece of paper. The paper looked rough and old. Prince Dakar was reading that before she arrived. She gently tiptoed to the table and her fingers gently touched the paper, about to lift it.

“Don’t you dare,” Dakar’s voice echoed through the room. Avril felt her heart drop to her knees.
“I’m sorry,” escaped her lips as she withdrew her hands. She looked up at his face and expected it to be angry, but it wasn’t. He wore an expression of fear and a bit of defense. He picked the paper and walked back into his closet. Avril twitched her lips and cussed at herself for trying to snitch on his property. She patiently waited for him to come back, not wanting to touch anything else.

Finally, Dakar returned. His hair was in a loose bun at the back of his head. He wore his usual white t-shirt and shorts. He was wearing a pair of Crocs, white Crocs.
“Come with me,” he said or he ordered, because his voice was stiff, cold and authoritative. She followed him out of the room silently. They walked down the grand staircase until they landed on the living room floor. The room was bright with lights, and didn’t look like the outside was an ancient stone building.
They entered the kitchen and he walked to the counter.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked.
“I don’t know. What’s on the menu?” she asked in return and he chuckled. An empty chuckle that didn’t show on his face. It was just a sound.
“I like fish. I can make barbecued fish,” he said without looking at her.
“I had a friend who always made those for me. We used to do the fishing together,” Avril said and watched him wash his hands.
“Cool,” he simply said without any emotions. But something about what he said made her heart bleed.

Alejandro Mateo.

How could she forget about him? She had been so busy thinking about Dakar everyday that she didn’t think about Alejandro for once. She didn’t even pay him respect. She didn’t talk to him. She just let him go like that. Her heart squeezed and she had to take deep, deep breaths to calm herself down. She promised she would spend sometime alone in her room to talk to him. She knew he would hear. Thinking about him again, she realized his death wasn’t worth it. Alejandro Mateo shouldn’t die like that!
“Fiorella, wash your hands,” Dakar’s voice echoed in her head. Her eyes blinked and she saw him looking at her.
“Huh?” she asked.
“Wash your hands and wear that apron. I don’t normally let people touch my stuff, but I’ll give you a chance to help me,” he spilled and walked to his fridge. Avril frowned and clicked her tongue. He said he was giving her a chance, like she wasn’t even worth it.
“Okay,” she just said and walked to the sink he just left. She washed her hands and wore the apron. He brought out two big fishes from his fridge and put them in a bowl for rinsing. Avril watched him do it and a smile crept on her face. He still loved cooking.

Dakar heat up the oven and made her give him a knife and some dry ingredients from his cabinet. She watched him cut the sides of the fishes and sprinkle ingredients on them. He wrapped them in foil and placed on the oven tray. The smell of curry and other sweet smelling ingredients filled the large kitchen. Finally, Dakar slipped the tray into the oven. They washed their hands and went to the dining room. Dakar poured out grape juice into two tumblers and handed her one.
“You are acting different,” she voiced out.
“How?” he asked.
“From what I heard, you’re supposed to be scary and not nice. But you’re actually nice to me,” she said and sat on one of the dining chairs. She placed her left hand on the table and used it to support her chin as she peered at him.
“So what about the scary aspect of me?” he asked and gulped down the entire content of the glass.
“You’re scary. Like the first time I met you,” she answered.
“In the throne room?”
She shook her head though he didn’t see her, since he wasn’t looking at her. She wanted to say she saw him in a forest the first time. With red glowing eyes and hanging on a big tree. But wouldn’t she sound crazy? He wouldn’t remember, so she would look crazy.

“I’m not being nice to you. I’m just letting you cook with me,” Dakar added after she was silent.
“You kissed me. That was sexy.”
Finally, he looked at her. His left eyebrow was raised at her in a question. As if asking her what the kiss had to do with him being nice.
“I’m just saying,” she protested.
“I kiss my women. Not special,” he said in a cold emotionless voice.
Avril swirled her drink in her hand and peered at the twirling liquid. She always wished to hold him again, and kiss him again. But now that it happened, she felt void. It truly wasn’t special. It was just Fiorella, a concubine being kissed by the Prince she belonged to.