Chapter 122 Shooting Stars

• Demarion was making himself a drink; it was a night, twice in one night, he came close to losing her. He felt sick to his stomach; he could not bear the thought.
• At her voice, he looked in her direction. She was as beautiful as the first day he laid eyes on her back in her village in the 1400s. She was perfect, with messy hair and all. He laid the bottle of whisky down, "Sure, let me."
• Reaching her in the bathroom, Aakifahlynn turned and pulled her long hair around her shoulder blades. Demarion grabbed the zipper in one hand, pinched the dress in the other, and slowly moved the zipper down.