I watch as they all laugh together. Clem, Anastasia, Eiran, Valencia and her little brother Cyrus, Wyatt, Ade, and Amadi. They’re all together.

They may not all be blood related, but they’re each other’s family.

_Family._

That’s something I never had growing up.

My mother died when I was five and my father raised me. Well actually, that’s a lie — he didn’t raise me. I raised myself. He was never around so the maids and guards brought me up but it wasn’t the same. I could tell some of them hated me for who I was — the son of a ruthless killer king who grew up to become a carbon copy of him. I don’t blame them for hating me. I would hate me too.

But now I’m here. I have escaped from my father and I’m just starting to live a life with people who just might actually care for me — _love_ me.

Wyatt accidentally throws a fireball right past me. "Sorry," he shrinks back and goes back to what he was doing.

I close my eyes and inhale.

Some of them are still annoying.

(Based off of my WOF series — a WIP)

Edited: BYE I JUST REALISED THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A POEM😭