Thalassa spun around, and there was Spencer, sporting a crisp blue shirt and slate-gray slacks, striding toward her with a plump chicken in his grasp.

Relief washed over Thalassa as she greeted him, "Spencer, did you go grocery shopping?"

Spencer?

The name struck Alaric like a hammer to the heart, his steps faltered, and he turned, the carefree smirk wiped clean off his face.

Indeed, Spencer approached, a lively hen clutched in his hand.

Alaric's gaze fixed on the chicken's clucking beak, a shiver running down his spine, his skin crawling with goosebumps. Rooted to the spot, paralyzed with dread, he couldn't move an inch. Since childhood, Alaric had harbored an irrational fear of beaked creatures, chickens most of all!

the very object of his phobia. Alaric felt trapped,

soup for Hertha-help with her recovery," Spencer said, reaching Thalassa's side

Falconer, you missed out on the meal last time. Stay for some

hand. Confronted with the chicken's beak, Alaric's deep-seated fear surfaced. He dodged behind Thalassa, panic-stricken, urging Spencer, "Keep that thing away from me. Take it away!" Thalassa

earth had

C

FAVOURITE GAMES ON

could puzzle it out, Alaric thrust something into her hands, his voice quivering with urgency. "Give this to

engine, and sped off, leaving a trail of

stood there, baffled. "What just

suave and a bit wicked, had

Thalassa couldn't help but want

glasses and remarked, "Mr. Falconer seems to have a fear

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