FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM - HER FIRST LOVE

Hunter pulled her more into his chest and looked down at their joined hands. He gently squeezed her hand in assurance. Hera tilted her head up to stare at him. Hunter loosened his hold on her shoulder and rubbed her arm soothingly. 

He greedily stole a kiss. 

Hunter was afraid of losing her. What if she decided it was better to leave him after knowing his truth? Why would she willingly put herself in danger and stay in his life? He knew he was selfish, but he couldn't risk losing her. He would have to wait until she grows up and harbours enough courage to get exposed to his real world. 

One look at her frightened face and he changed his mind. Hunter strongly believed in his gut feeling, and he never proceeds if he gets a second thought. He knew Hera wouldn't be able to digest the hard truth yet. And the last thing he wanted was for her to be scared of him.. 

'You're not ready yet, Goddess. I've to wait a little while longer.' 

He decided it wasn't the right time. 

"I was attacked today. One of my father's enemies sent people to hurt me," Hunter said. He didn't say they were here to kill him. Hera's eyes watered, her mouth fell open, and she launched herself on his upper body. Arms wrapped around his shoulder, she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll die if anything happens to you," she confessed, her tears soaking his naked skin. "Don't ever leave me, Hunter," she commanded, and Hunter agreed without missing a beat. "I mean to say don't die," she clarified. One arm locked around her middle, with his other hand, he affectionately caressed her hair. Hunter smiled at her statement. 

"You don't know my family background. What if you get exposed to danger because of me?" He asked, testing the water. "Who knows, maybe you would want to do nothing with me then," he said and felt Hera tighten her hold around him. 

"All you've to do is stay alive. As long as you're breathing, I'm fine with everything, Hunter, because I know, nothing can harm me with you around. You'll keep me safe, right?" Hera asked. She sounded so confident and determined, Hunter sighed and released the breath he had been holding. It was all he needed to know, nothing else mattered to him. He kissed the side of her head and hugged her tight. 

"I'll die if I need to, Goddess, but no harm would you reach you as long as I'm breathing," he promised. Hera removed herself from his hold and smacked him on the chest. "I said, don't die. I'll kill you if you dare to leave me," she vowed. Hunter pulled her back to his embrace and kissed her on the mouth. 

"I love you, Goddess," he confessed. 

Hera scoffed at him. 

"You said you hate me more a while ago," she said, accusing him again and poked her finger into his chest. 

"Ah, right. You were busy devouring me, and that topic got discarded somewhere because you had your perverted mind dumped in the gutter," Hunter replied, tone playful. Hera glared at him and lifted her hand to smack him again, but he caught her wrist. 

"I'll clarify that, but you've to say you love me first," Hunter said. Hera gifted him with a wolfish grin. "You love me," she stated. Hunter stared at her with mock-anger and watched her laugh wholeheartedly. Her laughter was always contagious, and Hunter couldn't resist joining her. 

"That I do, Goddess," he admitted. 

Hera smiled pleased. 

"I love you," she confessed. "I love you more," was Hunter's reply. "See, that's what I say every time you declare your love for me. It's not just become my habit, but it's more like a default setting now. So when you said I hate you, I simply said I hate you more. It's not like we meant it, right?" Hunter asked. 

Hera shut him up with a kiss, and everything turned out to be perfect in their love story for the time being. 

'I've to talk to Mathew in the morning, and he wouldn't keep it from Mom and Dad.'

Hunter pushed that thought aside for now and kissed his Goddess, pouring all his love into it. 

A FEW DAYS LATER; 

IN THE CASTELLANOS MANSION

He leaned back in the sofa chair, ankle propped on his knee, his polished shoe shining and spotless. His other foot planted on the floor tapped once in a while lazily. Usually, it would seem like a nervous trait if one tapped their foot, but the evil glint in his eyes displayed how pleased and relaxed His Majesty Christopher Castellanos was. 

Fist closing over the head of the jewelled cane, lips twitched in tiny as a satisfied smirk played across them, Christopher looked at the detective sitting before him. The man's frame appeared to be too small for the mahogany wooden carved furniture. The King preferred it more when his subject felt timid and tiny in front of his larger than life persona. 

Christopher gestured to him to have his coffee, and the detective obeyed, instantly lifting the cup to his mouth. 

"You never disappoint me, Nicos," he said, appreciating the detective's efforts. "The boy's name is Ace Hunter, and he studies in the same school His Highness visited in London," Nicos reported and passed a folder with details. Christopher waved his hand in dismissal, and the detective placed the folder on the big desk in the centre of the royal furniture set. 

They were in Christopher's formal, working place. The detective ran his gaze around the oval-shaped office while his thoughts disappeared, walking down the memory lane of the past few days when he saw Ace Hunter. He wondered in pure admiration as the visions of the boy fighting those grown-up goons double his size replayed in his mind. 

The lion always hunts alone, and the boy turned out to be an ideal example of the phrase. He looked no less than that ferocious animal hunting down his prey. 

"Though his name doesn't match with the one Your Majesty provided, he's the only one in the school with Alexander and Felicity Hunter as his parents," Nicos said. Christopher nodded and listened while the detective described the boy's personality. 

"If I have to describe the boy in three words, I would say he's intelligent, fearless and skillful. He's trained to rule," the detective said. Christopher grabbed the folder while Nicos explained how the boy fought against the hired professional killers and emerged victoriously. 

"He didn't even need any weapons. I was amazed at his fighting skills. I can define him in one single adjective. Powerful, yes, he's powerful," Nicos said, his voice filled with amazement while admiration dripped from his tone. 

Though Christopher pretended to be unaffected or unimpressed by the man's description, his fingers automatically flipped the folder cover open. As soon as his eyes fell on the pictures, it shook his pride for sure. The photographer had captured the boy so perfectly it looked astonishing from every angle. It was a photo sequence of the fight. 

The rage in his eyes, the confidence in his stance and the arrogance in his smile, he sure was powerful. Christopher couldn't help but admire the boy. 

"Your Majesty, I don't think it's a good idea if you're planning to harm the boy. I've seen him fight, and I can bet on my life, Your Majesty, nothing and no one can scare that boy. He would destroy everything within a blink of an eye," the detective said. He could feel the goosebumps rising on his skin just by remembering the boy's enraged face. 

"Who were they, Nicos? Who dared to place the price on the boy's head?" Christopher asked, ignoring the detective's warning. 

The man hesitated to answer but spoke anyway. 

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I didn't think it was my place to lurk into that territory. He's Alexander Hunter's son, after all. How could I dare poke my nose into the matter? I couldn't risk my life. I'm sure the boy's father will take care of it," he replied, his tone apologetic. 

The King nodded once in acknowledgement. "Of course, Nicos, I appreciate your service. Your existence is needed. I wouldn't want Alexander to rip your head off," he said jokingly. The detective was thankful for the King's playful mood. 

Christopher pointed at the fat white envelope on the table. As soon as the detective picked it up, the King dismissed him. The bundle of money inside the envelope weighed enough to satisfy the man. He bowed his head to show his respect, offering his greetings, he left. 

The King smiled as he picked up the photographs and his eyes scrutinised every detail on the boy's face. He was tall, handsome, daring and dashing. But the most striking feature of the boy was his eyes. 

He remembered the little boy with purple eyes running around his throne. Alastair would act scared every time the boy pointed his toy sword at him and threaten him to kill. Alastair would willingly accept the defeat and offer the throne to the boy. It was the boy's payment for sparing his life. 

Christopher scoffed at the memory.