Page 196 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

He looks up, meets my eyes, and then glances at Asher, a spark of excitement in his gaze.

“I’ve got this line,” Jagger says, his voice carrying the weight of the words. “It’s like a heartbeat, you know? Something primal and raw.”

He hits a chord on his guitar, “Through the dune of time, his footsteps leave a trace…”

Jagger’s vocal range has developed since I’ve known him, allowing for both intense, raspy low notes and soaring, dynamic high notes. But it’s that distinctive rough, husky texture that gives his voice a characteristic edge that cuts through the instruments and sits so well with the kind of music we now produce. Whether belting out anthemic choruses or delivering soulful ballads, his voice often conveys a sense of rebellion, emotion, and charisma that captivates audiences.

“No, wait,” he says, cutting me off from following off his notes. “Through the dune of time….yeah, that’s it…..” he repeats himselfagain. “Through the dune of time, his footsteps leave a trace, chasing inner demons, finding solace in this space.”

Asher, always in sync with the rhythm, starts tapping out a heartbeat on his drumsticks. "Like this?"

Jagger’s grinning as he bops his head at Asher’s drumming.

Then, my fingers find the perfect chords, weaving around the heartbeat rhythm, creating an ethereal yet grounded melody.

Jagger begins to sing, his voice blending seamlessly with the instruments, and we finally breathe life into a set of lyrics. My fingers dance on the strings of my guitar, plucking them with melodic precision, providing a steady undertone. Asher continues tapping out a beat on the edge of the bed, his eyes focused on the notebook in front of him.

By the second verse, I stop, and the other two follow me, smiling wide.

“I reckon, fellas, we got the base tune of our next song!”

“Ahhhh!”

Our joy is interrupted by the two figures on the bed in front of us, and my knob on instant goes hard.

I watch the beauty sprawled out naked on the customized massive bed and my brother positioned between her legs, his face hidden within her thighs, going to town on her without any sign of stopping on the pussy he’s currently feasting on.

Her dark, tanned skin against his pale, typical English flesh contrasts. Those juicy breasts of hers, beautiful hard buds…

“For fuck’s sake, Callum,” she breathes out heavily as she arches her back and thrashes her hips against his face.

He looks up from her mound and turns his head over his shoulder at Asher and Jagger sitting in his direct line of sight.

“A little help, fellas, to keep her down while I bring her to the edge.”

His face wet with a mix of his own saliva and her juice, he gives me that signature cunning grin he’s known for.

“It’s been five already, you ass!” she screams.

“Shhh, princess!” I chuckle, putting my guitar against the chair I’m sitting on and crawling up the bed. “When my brother is determined to break his record, don’t interrupt him!”

Callum’s gaze looks up at me as I move towards the left side of Eden and I know he’s grinning.

“Hasn’t your tongue numbed yet?” she asks, panting, as her head lifts up.

I brushed a few sweaty strands of hair away from her brow, and my eyes catch the faint scar that starts from her left temple and gets hidden in her hair. They had to shave part of her head, but over a year later, her hair is growing back at a steady rate. She dyed her growing hair green and the ends of her long strands to match. One would think she intentionally cut her hair that way, but her inner circle knows the truth.

A cold shiver runs up my spine just thinking about how we all thought we lost Eden.

Perhaps for a brief moment, we had. That fateful evening, we heard Asher yelling and shouting over the phone and then crying.

It was an event I would never want to relive again.

When we arrived at the abandoned mall, the emergency medical crew had already loaded her into the ambulance. Asher got into our vehicle, and we sped through the streets to the hospital, where we watched the medics unload Eden and nurses and doctors race her into surgery.

When Asher pulled her out of the car, he already knew she had been shot in the head. The head tends to bleed more profusely than most parts of the body, and he thought she was dead, but as he held her, he felt slight gasping breaths from her, realizing she might still be alive, and started immediate CPR on her.

He kept Eden’s heart going for twenty minutes until the ambulance arrived. Truth is, he saved her life, and without his swift determination to keep going, she’d be dead by now. I regret now taking the piss out of him back when he chose PE1 for his GCSE2 elective school exam and got his first aid instruction through the course. Ironic in every sense.

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