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#R18
#APOCALYPSE
#ENEMIESTOLOVERS

Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son

You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late. I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan— “Mommy?” I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.” “Mommy!” I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?” He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?” I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside. I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game. Well, we may just survive this mess after all. Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes. I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival. For Leo and me. Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

QuillMistress · Ficção Científica
Classificações insuficientes
227 Chs
#R18
#APOCALYPSE
#ENEMIESTOLOVERS

51

The snow was relentless, a swirling mass of white that layered the already thick blanket of ice covering the ground. Kit stood just ahead of them, his gloved hands brushing clumps of it away with the same stubborn energy he always carried. The air was frigid, biting at their cheeks as Zara crouched beside him.

"What is it?" Zara asked, her voice a low murmur.

"I think it's… here," Kit said, excitement bubbling under his breathless words. His hand froze mid-motion as he glanced back at Mia, who stood a few paces behind, her arms tightly folded around herself. "I saw something metal."

Zara exchanged a glance with Mia, noting the girl's furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Her guilt was etched into every feature. Zara refocused, brushing more snow aside until her fingers scraped something rough and cold—a grate, just as Kit had said.