Page 29 of Roar Letter Word

Addie had grown used to the pattern of spending the morning tending to herself and her own needs. It had been years since she gave herself the space and time to sit in bed and read, a delicious steaming cup of coffee and the remnants of breakfast placed aside. Most people on Earth would scoff at her gratitude in the moment, the majority of them willing to give up their own privacy for a single touch of her stardom.

But none of them really knew what it was like to have to plan out simple things like going for a walk at night or needing to pick up some groceries. She hadn’t done either of those things in years … groceries were picked up by her assistant or ordered in, while evening walks were strictly out of the question. Even sitting on a balcony next to the glow of a streetlamp was a big no-no … the paparazzi would have an easy, fresh shot of her in a state of vulnerability.

She wanted them to try that on for size for a day or two. Being an artist was a magical experience, but all of the cruel human experiences that came with it were quite the opposite. It made her feel like she was in some medieval dungeon.

On Nova Aurora, she had space to breathe. To just be.

And that was what Addie, the pop star who had spent years on the road touring without a single area to call home, was doing when she heard an ear-splitting sound. She was lying on her back, her body buzzing from the multiple ways it had been satisfied over the past days, her book resting on her chest as she read happily, not a single care in the universe.

It took her out of reality for a moment, a tearing, surreal echo she had heard at some point before. Sound was, of course, crucial to Addie’s life and career. There was a good reason why they did a soundcheck. A single scathing review could hijack her career in a matter of seconds.

She placed the book face down on her chest, then sat up in bed. She listened intently, at first hearing nothing but the faint calls of an insect outside, but then she heard it again. It was a lion's roar that could really only mean one thing.

Her heart crawled into her throat.

“Mahes,” she whispered.

Addie’s state of rest was shaken, and she swung her feet out of bed and padded to the terrace. What she saw out there was beyond outrageous and transcended the very definition of what was shocking to her human eyes.

Two lions … male lions, from what she could see of the golden, glistening manes … were scrapping on the stone driveway rather violently. They were twice the size of the ones she had seen at the zoo as a child, as well as the ones she’d observed on the plains of the African Savanna during her one marvelous experience there. They had been intimidating and beautiful enough from the safety of her caravan, but watching the shifter versions of them from atop a two-story estate was like watching two beasts from a fairy tale.

They literally went head-to-head, their skulls smashing together and rolling over the stony ground. They were magnificent but also vicious and loud to the point where Addie felt she couldn't watch anymore.

She clapped her hands over her mouth when one of them pinned the other, mashing his face into the slab of hard stone. She peeled herself from the sight, running toward her bedroom door and ripping it open.

Thankfully, Pritesh was there, scurrying down the hallway while carrying bed sheets slung over her shoulder. Addie felt a little pathetic, but it wasn’t her world. She didn’t really understand the savagery just yet.

“Pritesh!” she called.

She spun around, eyes wide, ready to fulfill any obscene request their human visitor might desire.

“Yes, miss?”

“There’s a fight outside. I think it's Mahes!” Addie said, feeling her cheeks run hot.

Pritesh gazed at her like she had told her that the sky was blue and the water was wet. It wasn’t insulting. The woman was cautious and selective with her responses regarding Addie. She knew just as well that it wasn’t her world.

“Yes, that is how it is done here on Nova Aurora,” she said softly, traipsing closer to Addie in the doorway. “Especially when a king is involved, an enemy must be dealt with swiftly.”

“Enemy?” Addie said, the word puffing out of her mouth like smoke. “What kind of enemies does Mahes have?”

Pritesh’s eyes shined with reluctance, her mouth closing shut like a trap door. She placed both hands on Addie’s arm and guided her back into the room while speaking in a singsong lullaby of a voice.

“Mahes will come up and explain everything to you. I promise he will be fine. Just wait here, honey. Okay?”

Addie didn’t always take kindly to people speaking to her like she was a child, but she took no offense from Pritesh. She had a motherly way about her that Addie craved more than she realized.

“Okay,” she muttered back.

Pritesh asked if she wanted anything, suggesting some wine to calm the nerves. But Addie said no. The instant effect of intoxication that the Nova Auroran staple had on her the first night of her visit had marked her deeply. The housekeeper told her the king would be finished with his duties soon and left her alone again in the guest room.

Addie was unsettled, having closed her book. She twisted and turned the sheets in her hands like the stem of a leaf. Only a few minutes later, there was a knock at her door.

More like a pound, it made Addie jump from her reverie.

“It’s me, Addie, Pritesh told me you were concerned. May I come in?”

“Yes, come in.”

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