Fallen 7

Fallen 7 Summary

Meadow wakes up overwhelmed and panicked after realizing she is wearing a diamond ring, suggesting she is married to Alaric, though she has no clear memory of agreeing to it. Fragments of the previous night come back to her in flashes, including her own whispered proposal and Alaric’s promise to make others pay for something. She struggles with the disbelief and confusion of the situation, feeling exposed and vulnerable under Alaric’s intense gaze.

 

Alaric commands Meadow to eat the lavish breakfast he has prepared, insisting that she needs to nourish herself before they talk. Despite her initial resistance, Meadow reluctantly sits and eats while Alaric watches her silently, his presence both commanding and possessive. Their interaction reveals tension and unspoken emotions as Meadow tries to process the reality of their marriage and Alaric’s enigmatic demeanor.

 

During breakfast, Meadow questions Alaric about the custom-made ring and recalls a cryptic statement he made about not being able to feel anyone’s touch except hers. This revelation deepens the mystery surrounding Alaric’s character and their connection. Meadow also remembers asking Alaric to take her virginity, though he did not, emphasizing the complexity of their relationship and the blurred lines caused by her intoxication.

 

Alaric explains that marriage is merely paperwork and insists that Meadow was already his before the ring was on her finger, hinting at a deeper bond and ownership beyond legal formalities. The chapter ends with the two locked in a charged silence, both grappling with the implications of their sudden and complicated union.

CHAPTER 0007

Meadow’s Perspective:

Alaric’s words struck me with a force far stronger than any hangover I’d ever experienced. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, panic rising like a tide.

I looked up at him, my voice trembling as I tried to deny it. “No, no. That can’t be—We didn’t…” I faltered, unable to finish the sentence.

But before I could gather my thoughts, the soft chime of the doorbell cut through the tension, halting me abruptly.

“That must be room service,” Alaric muttered with a casual smirk, then strode to the door and shut it behind him, leaving me alone with the whirlwind of questions spinning relentlessly in my mind.

I lifted my left hand, my fingers shaking uncontrollably as my eyes locked onto the diamond ring gleaming on my finger. I stared so intently it was as if sheer willpower could make it vanish.

“This can’t be real…” I whispered to myself in disbelief.

There was no way I was married. Absolutely no way I had agreed to this. But as I squeezed my eyes shut, fragments of last night’s memories flickered through my mind—scattered, hazy, but undeniably present.

“Marry me,” I heard myself say in a broken whisper.

I groaned softly.

“I can make them pay,” he had promised, his voice low and dangerous. “Just say the word.”

“Oh no,” I whimpered, clutching the collar of Alaric’s shirt tightly. I had said yes. I really had.

But that had to be illegal, didn’t it? I was drunk, not thinking straight, not in a clear state of mind.

Before I could drown in my panic, the door swung open. I lifted my gaze to find Alaric leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest.

His arms—strong, muscular—were impossible to ignore, even for me.

Memories of his hands lifting me, carrying me as I buried my face into his chest, flooded back.

Oh God.

My cheeks flamed, if that was even possible—they had to be burning already.

“Come, Meadow,” his voice was low, cold, commanding.

Something about his tone propelled me forward before my brain could catch up. I moved toward the door, holding my breath as I passed him. He was wearing a loose t-shirt that stopped just halfway down my thighs, leaving me covered but feeling exposed under his intense gaze. I gripped the edges of the shirt tightly, as if anchoring myself to it.

I walked to the dining table, and my eyes widened at the sight before me: the most lavish breakfast tray I had ever laid eyes on.

There was creamy avocado toast, golden scrambled eggs, fluffy pancakes piled high with whipped cream and fresh berries, silky smoked salmon, small glass jars filled with honey and jam, and a pitcher of what smelled like freshly squeezed orange juice.

Next to it stood a glass of water and a tiny plate holding two painkiller pills.

I spun around sharply, gasping when I realized Alaric was standing just behind me. Towering over me, his gaze locked on mine.

His eyes—those mesmerizing eyes—I hadn’t been able to see them clearly last night, but now I could. They were a deep, ink-blue, so dark they could be mistaken for black in dim light.

And right now, they were narrowed, watching me intently.

“I can’t eat this,” I said quickly, catching myself before I did something foolish.

“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

It took me a moment to find my voice. “Well, first of all,” I stammered, “I’m not hungry.” The lie felt bitter on my tongue.

“And second,” I added lightly, “I might have your expensive-ass ring on my finger, but I don’t remember saying yes to you. I was drunk, and I… Wait, what are you doing?”

Alaric had stepped aside, pulling out a chair right in front of the food.

He tapped the seat twice with his hand. “Sit,” he ordered.

“You can’t be serious,” I scoffed.

“I’m absolutely serious, Meadow,” he said plainly. “And as I told you, you need to eat something before we have any sort of conversation.”

I swallowed hard, preparing a sharp retort, but nothing came. Instead, I slid into the chair, and Alaric moved to the coffeemaker, his back to me as he poured steaming coffee into a cup.

I picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of egg, anything to distract myself from staring at the intricate tattoos that spiraled up his arms, or the casual way he walked back to the table and pulled out the seat across from me.

He sat with a quiet grace, placing the mug gently on the table, making my eyelids flutter involuntarily. His eyes met mine again, and I quickly looked away, clearing my throat as I took a bite of the eggs.

He said nothing. Not a word. Just sipped his black coffee slowly, watching me eat as if I were his responsibility.

Or perhaps, his possession.

“So,” I muttered, avoiding his gaze, “do you just carry spare diamond rings around in case you randomly get married?”

A faint twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth. “No. That one was custom-made.”

I blinked. “What?”

He lifted the mug to his lips again, ignoring my question.

I narrowed my eyes but pushed a forkful of pancake into my mouth anyway. I hated how delicious it was, but I couldn’t help closing my eyes in pleasure, a soft moan escaping my lips.

I caught myself immediately, opening my eyes to meet Alaric’s gaze.

He was already watching me, his expression unreadable.

Then his eyes drifted down to my mouth.

And I promptly choked.

Coughing violently, clutching my chest, I struggled to catch my breath.

Alaric was at my side in an instant.

He grabbed the pitcher and poured me a glass of orange juice.

“Here,” he said softly, holding it out to me. Our hands brushed briefly, and I felt the tension ripple through him.

I gulped down the juice, but froze as another memory flashed through my mind.

“I can’t feel anyone’s touch, Meadow. But I felt yours.”

Alaric had said those words last night, and I hadn’t fully understood their meaning.

Now, watching his jaw clench and his shoulder tighten, my curiosity got the better of me.

“What did you mean when you said that?” I asked quietly.

“Said what?” he murmured, returning to his seat.

I shook my head, wondering if I sounded insane. “That you can’t feel touch.”

He smirked slightly. “I’m surprised you remember that,” he said coolly, leaning back. “You don’t seem to recall much else from last night.”

My heart leapt. “I remember asking you to take my virginity.”

I slapped my palm against my forehead in disbelief.

Why on earth had I said that?

Alaric’s expression remained unreadable. “You did.”

“And… you didn’t.”

“You were drunk,” he said, his voice rougher now. “I don’t take what isn’t given soberly.”

I tilted my head. “I was drunk too when I agreed to marry you.”

His mouth twitched again. “That’s different.”

“How so?”

Alaric met my eyes steadily. “Marriage is just paperwork, Meadow.” His gaze dropped to my lips, darkening as his fingers tightened around the mug.

“But you were already mine before I slipped the ring onto your finger.”