Feral – Darkly Ever After Read Online Mila Crawford

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
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“Are you ready?” Lev asked, leaning against the doorframe in a dark navy three-piece suit.

I scanned his thick frame, focusing on his medium-brown Italian leather loafers. “Remember to remove your shoes once you get to the door.”

I walked over to Cyrus, loosened his crooked, and removed it. “Don’t worry. Nasrin Baran always sat at the kitchen table while I was in her daughter’s room. You’re freaking yourself out way more than you need to.”

“You okay? You look like you’re about to throw up,” Lev said as I rang the doorbell.

My hands were clammy, and my body was restless. I’d been to this house many times, slept on the sofa, Azadeh’s bed, and in Dariyus’s room once he went to college, but I still experienced a sense of unease about coming back here after I was locked up. It was almost as if I would suddenly be unwelcome.

Mona opened the door, and before she said anything, she leaped into my arms. “Zeke. I’m so happy to see you. I wanted to visit you when you were in jail, but Maman said it was no place for a young girl. I pointed out that Azadeh was a young girl, but that only made her cock an eyebrow and tell me I was a Bache pourroh.”

I hugged Mona fiercely, shocked at how much I’d missed her. Being six years Azadeh’s junior, Mona had also become a kid sister to me. “It’s good to see you, Azizam, chegat gondeh shodi.”

“Ah, man, you speaking Farsi too, now? Maman says I need to speak Farsi at home so I don’t lose it. I’m not sure why I need to know it anyway. It’s not like it’s gonna do anything for me. It’s only spoken in three countries, and then random diaspora.”

“There’s one very valid reason to learn it.” I bent and handed her the smaller package by my feet.

Mona tapped my shoulder to be let down before ripping into her present.

“Two questions,” Cyrus whispered in my ear. “One, what did you say to her, and two, was I supposed to bring the kid a present?”

“I called her sweetheart and told her she got big,” I murmured. “I always get her something, but you don’t have to.”

“Yes, he does,” Mona said, squealing as she held up an iPhone. “Oh, my God, Zeke! This is the best present ever.” Mona threw her arms around me, giving me a fierce hug.

“It’s already set up, and I put you on my plan, but go easy on the data, will you? I know how crazy thirteen-year-olds are.”

“Mona, let them in,” Mrs. Baran said as she shuffled toward the door. As soon as she saw me, she shrieked and threw her arms around me like her youngest daughter. “Ah, Joonam. Mard shodi.” My life. You’ve become a man.

I wrapped my arms around her, allowing myself to be swallowed in her warmth.

She pulled away and brought her hands to my face, pulling my head down and kissing my forehead. “Please, come in.”

I bent to pick up the giant box before we went inside. We removed our shoes in the entryway and followed Nasrin into the house.

“Where’s Azadeh?” I asked, putting my present on the dining room table.

“She’s right here,” Azadeh said from behind me.

I turned, and my eye nearly popped out of my head. If this were a teen movie montage from the nineties, the scene would be in slow motion, and a divine light would shroud my girl’s head.

I didn’t wait for her to reach the bottom of the stairs before I rushed to her, wrapping my arms around her waist and picking her up. Bending my head to her ear, I whispered so only she could hear, “You look beautiful, aziz-e-delam.” Dearest to my heart.

Azadeh’s cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you.”

Cyrus tugged at my arms. “Stop hogging her.” He pulled me off her and gave her a quick squeeze. “Tavalodat Mobarack.”

Azadeh and I were taken aback by Cyrus’s attempt at Farsi as he wished her a happy birthday.

He smirked at us. “You’re not the only one who watches YouTube videos. Those old Persian movies are pretty dope. That Fardin guy was a looker, huh? The Paul Newman of Iran, I’d say.”

Azadeh giggled. “He’s my maman’s favorite.”

“What’s my favorite?” Nasrin asked as she poked her head out of the kitchen.

“Cyrus here likes Fardin movies,” Azadeh explained.

Nasrin wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to us. She took Cyrus’s hand and dragged him away. “You have to tell me which one. I have all of his movies on VHS.”

Azadeh and I laughed as we walked over to Lev, sitting by the sofa with a cup of cardamom tea in his hand and a lollipop stick standing up in it.

He raised the cup to us, his thumb squished in the ridiculously tiny handle. “Your mother has filled this up three times in the last thirty minutes. It would make more sense if she gave me a coffee mug.” He pulled out the lollipop stick. “This is the most delightful sugar I’ve ever had, but what are these red things floating inside?”


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