A Sterling Silver Love

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secret meetings

“SWEETHEART,” DRACO SPOKE SOFTLY as to not startle his sleeping mate. “Hey wake up.” He watched her stir, his heart seeming to beat fast in her presence.

“Draco?” Her eyes were wide with happiness. “I missed you,” she murmured into the crook of his neck.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here,” he rubbed her back soothingly while she cried tears of frustration. The intended one week “apart” had been extended by an extra three days, while Draco tried to find ways to kill Kyle.

“Are you any closer to neutralizing him?”

Draco let out a sigh and leaned back, “no.”

Aida’s body posture sagged as she made small swirling patterns on her bump. “And what of the war?”

“We know when they’re going to strike, we just don’t know the approximate numbers.” He paused and his silver hues flickering up from her stomach to her face, “this is probably too much of me to ask, but you were my best warrior—can i give you some things to look at and mull over?”

“You know you don’t need to ask me to help you. I’m your mate, I’m supposed to help you.” They smiled at each before Aida made her way slowly to her feet. “I want to make brownies, come on.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the King as he followed his Queens request despite it being 11:30 at night. “Hey Goober,” Draco grinned at his little brother who was leaning against his kitchen counter. The King laughed again as he watched his brother walk towards him, his eyes blazing with fury.

“I’m making brownies,” Aida told Liam cheerfully. “Do you want to help?” Together the two began baking the chocolate desserts, ignoring the loud and obnoxious sounds the brothers were making as they wrestled with one another. With a heavy sigh, Aida climbed onto the bar stool and began conversing with Liam. “Are they always like this?” She gestured to Draco and Stefan who were still wailing on one another.

“Yup,” Liam said, “pretty much.”

Aida rolled her eyes, not impressed by her mates behavior. Her sketchpad and pencil were still on the counter from the night before and she couldn’t help but begin to as time went on. She didn’t know what she wanted to draw, but rarely picked up a blank piece of paper with a concrete idea—she always let her hand and subconscious do the work. Aida no longer heard the sounds of Draco and Stefan beating each other, or Liam typing away on his phone. All she heard was the sound of the newly sharpened pencil stroking the rough paper.

“Is that Tobias?”

She jumped and placed a hand on her heart. “Jesus Draco, don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, kissing her temple. “I thought you heard me call your name.”

Aida shook her head.

“Well, the brownies are ready. I took them out and put them on a plate, do you want one now?”

“And vanilla ice cream if we have it.” Sending him a grateful smile, Aida hopped out of her seat and made her way to the couch. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Ooh! Grey’s Anatomy,” she yelped excitedly as soon as she saw Draco turn on Netflix.

It wasn’t a show any of the males would have chosen, but they found themselves given into the pregnant females wishes. Looking over, Draco chuckled softly at the sight of his mate, asleep with her head tilted back and her mouth open. “I’m going to take her bed,” he whispered to Liam and Stefan.

“Are you spending the night?”

Draco nodded. “Night Lee, night Goober.” Scooping her up in his arms he padded softly up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom, Aida had been occupying. She stirred in his arms and Draco froze, afraid that he had woken her up. Moving the covers back he climbed into the bed beside her. Kissing her forehead, he smiled as she clutched his shirt and let out a pleased sigh.

Draco stood outside the home of Luciano and Blaise DeLuca for almost 10 minutes before he worked up the courage to knock. “Draco,” Blaise sent him a very warm smile as she pulled him into a hug.

“Who’s at the door Piccola,” Draco could hear Luciano take a break from cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Draco,” Aida’s father stuck his hand out.

“Sir,” he said out of respect, his head bowing in a curt nod. “Can we talk?” Luciano nodded, stepping away from the door and letting the Lycan King through. “I,” he stopped, wringing his hands in nervousness, he had never felt this uneasy before. “I had to reject Aida.” The first blow caught him off guard, but the others were expected and he did nothing to stop them. He deserved it. By the time Luciano was done, he had a broken nose, two black eyes, a busted lip, and some cracked ribs.

“Why?” Blaise was heartbroken, both males could see that.

“I got a letter from another Lycan, someone Aida and I prosecuted a month or so ago. In his letter, he stated that I had to reject her or he would kidnap her, mark her, and make sure I felt all of it. I told her right away and we deceived a plan. Without accepting a rejection, two mates are still mated—Aida never accepted my rejection, therefore we’re still together. She’s been staying in France with my little brother and his mate.”

“She told me you were both going to Cannes.”

“That’s where my brother lives. I’ve been spending the night with her, but during the day I have to be in Greece, getting ready for both of our coronations.”

“Sit down son,” Luciano pointed to the dinner room. “I’m going to tell you a story about my marriage with Blaise. Five years after Blaise and I got married, I kicked her out,” Luciano cringed at the memory. “I was sent photos of Blaise in bed with someone, who didn’t have tattoos and the dates all matched days that I was away. My life was complete and utter shit for four years, I was angry at myself for not trusting her and I was angry at the person for driving us apart. I was lucky enough that she wanted to try again, mainly for Millie’s sake but I used any and every excuse to be with her again. What I’m saying is, you did the right thing talking to her first before jumping to conclusions. I appreciate that, my Princess has been through a lot.”

Draco nodded, gladly accepting the fatherly advice. “Thank you.”

After the trio had finished dinner, Blaise called out for Draco once more. “Draco, when you find the bastard that did this to you and Aida, kill him.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When Aida woke up the next morning, she buried her face even further into her pillow, grunting at the fact that all parts of her body were sore. Reaching over to the phone by her bedside, she fingered around looking for her phone.

“Celeste?” The sound Draco’s voice rang through her ear.

Aida grunted. “I’m sore,” she scowled.


“Yes and it’s your fault.”

“Um no you can put that right there,” the King gave a thumbs up to one of the maids. “Is it now? Because I recall you cursing at me yesterday and then denying my command to not cum.”

Aida drew in a sharp breath.

“So tell me, Whore, how is this exactly my fault?”

“I hate you,” she moaned, trying to rearrange herself in the bed.

“Do you?” His voice followed through her room loudly and she screeched. “So you hate me?”

“Yes,” she gulped, watching as he walked closer to the bed. “I hate when you do that, just materialize. Can you draw a bath for me? My body feels like it got run over by a bus.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “First you tell me you hate me and now you want me acting as your submissive.”

“I’m pregnant,” she pointed out.

“Mhm, being pregnant with my children doesn’t and will never make you the dominant in this relationship. Do you understand me?”

“Muscle relaxer and lavender essence in the water too.” She let out a tired giggle as she watched Draco turn on his heel and stomp towards the bathroom. She had him wrapped around her finger and she knew it. “Who was that person you were talking to earlier,” she yelled.

“Jesus fuck woman, there’s no need to yell.” Draco rubbed his ears, hoping that would get rid of the ringing noises. “Catherine, she’s our maid. She’ll also be accompanying you back to Massachusetss next week for the mark removal.”

When Aida finally stumbled into the bathroom she was greeted with milky looking bath water that smelled of lavender. “Will you make me some tea too?”

After helping his pregnant mate into the tub, Draco sighed and nodded. “Hey Stef,” he muttered to Stefan.

“What no Goober?”

Draco shook his head and leaned against the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil.

“Alright,” Stefan put his pencil down. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he ran a hand down his face. “Just Aida.”

“Clearly it’s something—you called her by her first name.”

“We’re fine,” he said with scowl as he poured hot water into a cup. Saluting his brother, he trudged up the stairs and towards the bathroom. “Chamomile tea with a lemon slice.”

Aida reached for the cup with a grateful look on her face.

“I also brought you three butter croissants and an Ibuprofen.”

“Thank you.”

Draco nodded in understanding before maneuvering himself so he stood behind Aida.

A groan of pleasure escaped Aida’s mouth as she felt Draco’s hands working their magic on her tense shoulders. “Do you want a full body massage?”

Aida nodded, vigorously.

“I’ll prepare the table.”

Once again Aida was left alone in the bathroom as she waited for Draco. Slowly, she rose up from the lukewarm water and dried herself with a fluffy towel and then walked to the massage room naked.

“On your stomach My Queen.” Moans and groans filled the walls as the Queen was relieved of her tensions.

“Can we do this every week?”

Draco snorted. “We can hire someone, yes. Roll over.”

Aida turned over, the towel covering her lower regions long forgotten. A gasp filled the room as she felt a finger dip between her legs. “Master...” her voice trailed off, Aida wasn’t even positive she knew what she wanted to say.

“I’ll allow you to finish just this once,” Draco purred.

Aida whimpered, her head moving from side to side as she felt herself come undone. “Are you coming back tonight?” She asked breathlessly while he stroked her hair.

“I will do my best, but I might come when you’re sleeping. Do you want me to wake you like usual?”

“Yes please.”

Draco kissed her lips softly. “I have to go now, I’ve been gone far too long. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” She waved and watched him vanish into thin air.

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