Fallen 22

Fallen 22 Summary

Meadow is startled when she accidentally breaks ceramic plates on the kitchen floor, and Mel urgently tells her to stay still since she’s barefoot. Despite the warning, Meadow tries to move and ends up slipping on a shard, nearly falling, but Alaric catches her just in time. His concern is evident, and he scolds her for being reckless, especially given her recent injury, which still visibly unsettles him.

 

Mel begins cleaning up the mess, but Alaric insists on taking over and tells Mel to go home. Once alone, Alaric quietly prepares dinner while Meadow watches, feeling a mix of nervousness and attraction toward him. Their conversation turns serious when Meadow mentions Alaric’s decision to have her sister Juniper committed to a psych ward. Alaric stands firm, warning Meadow not to bring up the topic again unless she wants Juniper released, reminding her of what Juniper did to her.

 

After some silence, Meadow surprises Alaric by agreeing to marry him, hoping to gain his help in seeking revenge on Tyler and Juniper. Alaric is pleased by this, but Meadow hesitates before adding that before signing anything, she wants to be physically close to him again, expressing a desire to touch him intimately. The chapter ends with this charged moment of vulnerability and tension between them.

Meadow’s Perspective:

The sharp crash of ceramic plates shattering against the cold marble floor startled me, making me flinch involuntarily. A curse slipped from my lips as jagged fragments scattered in every direction around my feet. I stood frozen, like a deer caught in the glare of headlights, unable to move or think clearly.

Mel’s sharp intake of breath nearly caused her to drop the pan she was holding. “Stay still!” she commanded urgently, already darting toward a door tucked into the corner of the kitchen. “You’re barefoot, Meadow. Don’t take another step.”

I nodded quickly, my muscles tightening with tension. Then, remembering that Alaric was just a few feet away, I turned my head to glance at him.

That, I realized almost instantly, was a terrible idea.

God, my recent decisions had been nothing but bad ones.

As I shifted my weight, my foot landed on a slick shard of porcelain, and I lost my balance.

A startled gasp escaped me as my arms flailed, desperately searching for something—anything—to grab onto and steady myself. But there was nothing within reach.

Yet, I didn’t hit the floor.

Strong hands caught me mid-fall.

“Fucking hell, Meadow,” Alaric cursed under his breath, pulling me into his arms and lifting me off the ground. He stepped away from the mess I’d just created.

“What part of ‘stay still’ did you not get?” His voice was low, sharp, and threaded with something dangerously close to concern.

My mouth opened, but no words emerged. How could I explain? I’d nearly fallen hard onto broken ceramic, risking serious injury.

My heart pounded fiercely against my ribcage, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the near-fall—or from the fact that Alaric was carrying me, bridal style.

And he still hadn’t put me down.

“What are you doing here, Meadow?” he muttered, eyes locked on me. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

I swallowed hard as he gently set me back on my feet, though his hand lingered on my waist, as if still trying to keep me steady in case my clumsiness struck again.

“I was,” I said, voice light and airy, avoiding his gaze. “But then I got tired and thought I’d come help Mel.”

He smirked darkly. “And how’d that stubbornness work out for you?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching.

My jaw tightened as I shot him a glare, crossing my arms defensively. Behind me, I could hear Mel sweeping up the broken shards, but I refused to look back.

Neither of us spoke for a moment.

“I was just trying to be helpful,” I said stiffly, my cheeks warming at how close we still were, and how intently Alaric was watching me. “It’s not a crime.”

His gaze swept over me, lingering a moment too long on my chest. I uncrossed my arms, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“No,” he replied, voice steady. “But it’s inconvenient when you end up needing stitches because you think you’re indestructible.”

I scowled. “I don’t need stitches.”

Alaric’s mouth twitched as he fixed me with a pointed look. “How’s your forehead?”

The bastard.

My hand instinctively reached for the bandage hidden beneath my hair—the constant reminder of what my sister had done to me. As I touched it, I caught a dark flicker in Alaric’s eyes, his jaw tightening.

I could tell he hadn’t gotten over it yet.

Mel cleared her throat loudly behind us, breaking the tension. Alaric’s grip on my waist tightened briefly before he stepped back and released me.

“No,” something inside me begged. “Don’t go.”

“Got it,” Mel said, standing up straight, dustpan now full of broken pieces. “But I’m going to mop, just to be safe. Don’t want to take any chances.”

Alaric slowly peeled off his suit jacket, revealing a black button-down shirt beneath.

Did this man own anything besides black?

“Thanks, Mel,” he said firmly. “But I’ve got it. It’s late—you should be heading home.”

Mel hesitated. “Are you sure? I can finish—”

“Mel,” he interrupted, folding his jacket carefully, “go home to your family. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She glanced between us, gave me a small smile, then emptied the dustpan into the bin. “Okay then. I’ll be on my way. Goodnight, Meadow. Try to stay off your feet.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said, trying—and failing—to keep embarrassment out of my voice.

A moment later, the soft click of the side door told us she was gone.

We were alone.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

Alaric rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing one toned forearm and the other marked with inked tattoos. I swallowed hard. How could someone be this impossibly sexy?

He stirred something inside me—feelings I’d never experienced before.

Without a word, Alaric moved around the kitchen with quiet precision. He laid out new plates, uncorked a bottle of wine, and served food from the still-warm pot on the stove. I didn’t dare move this time. Instead, I eased back onto the stool.

He poured two glasses of wine, placing one gently in front of me before sliding onto the stool beside me.

A shiver ran down my spine. I tried to mask my nervousness by holding the glass by its stem, swirling the deep red liquid.

“You’re really good at this,” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

“Good at what?” he asked.

“This.” I gestured vaguely around the kitchen. “Serving dinner. Cleaning up messes.” I paused, lowering my voice. “Acting like you didn’t just have someone committed to a psych ward this morning.”

Alaric finally met my gaze, but his expression was unreadable.

“I’m not acting,” he said quietly.

I blinked, surprised.

“I did what had to be done,” he continued. “And believe me, I could’ve done much worse. But I had a feeling you wouldn’t appreciate that.”

He cut into his chicken with a knife, bringing a piece to his mouth and chewing slowly.

God, even the way he chewed was intoxicating.

Clearing my throat, I looked away. “I never asked you to commit my sister,” I said softly.

“No,” Alaric replied simply. “But unless you want me to get her out, I don’t see why we should be talking about this.”

A tug pulled at my chest. Why did I keep feeling guilty that Juniper was locked away? I knew it was temporary, but also that Alaric could make it permanent with little effort.

“She’s my sister, Alaric.”

He paused, setting down his cutlery gently. “Again, Meadow, unless you want me to get her out, we shouldn’t be discussing this. Not after what she did to you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Now, eat.”

The heavy silence that followed his words stretched between us. I opened my mouth, wanting to say maybe I did want him to get her out, but something deep inside warned me against it. Not yet.

So, I obeyed and ate.

Only when my plate was nearly empty did I speak again.

“I’ve thought about what you said.”

Alaric stood, clearing the plates from the counter. I watched him silently.

“I’ve said a lot, Meadow,” he murmured. “What exactly are you referring to?”

His voice sent a shiver through me, stirring a fierce ache deep inside. My eyes dropped to his hand, fingers—remembering how deeply they’d been inside me just yesterday.

And how badly I wanted more.

“I’ll marry you,” I said finally, my voice steady as Alaric leaned forward on the counter, elbows resting beside me. “I’ll sign whatever you want, so you can help me get revenge on Tyler and… Juniper.”

His mouth twitched into a small smirk. “I expected nothing less.” He seemed genuinely pleased by my words.

I wondered how he’d react to what I was about to say next.

“But…” I hesitated, voice trailing off. Alaric raised an eyebrow.

“But what?”

I slid down from the stool, unsure where this sudden courage came from. Then I circled the counter slowly and stood before him.

Alaric straightened, leaning his back against the counter as I faced him.

“Before I sign anything…” I said, locking eyes with him, my hand reaching out to touch his shirt. “I want you to let me touch you again.” My voice dropped to a whisper as I stared at his mouth. “Everywhere.”