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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Last Updated:
2024-03-15 11:46:35AMELIA
I step out of the bathroom, the warmth of the steam still clinging to my skin after rinsing off all the soap. Beatrice has thoughtfully laid out nightwear for me, and I offer her a grateful smile as I slip it on. Settling under the covers, I'm on the verge of drifting into a peaceful slumber when a knock interrupts the tranquility.
Beatrice climbs out of bed to answer. Their hushed conversation floats back to me as I wait for her to finish talking to the person at the door. Concern prickles at the edges of my consciousness, fearing it might be Ember or Nickolas looking for me.
"Is everything alright?" I inquire as Beatrice returns, clutching a shopping bag in her hand. I hold my breath, hoping against hope that my fears are unfounded.
"Get dressed. You're serving his majesty in bed tonight," she says, tossing the bag onto the foot of my bed. My chest tightens, and I stare at her in disbelief,
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"Get up!" his bark pierces the air, his presence casting a menacing shadow over me. I remain frozen, my body trembling uncontrollably as desperate wails tear from my throat. Curling into myself, I draw my knees to my chest, seeking whatever semblance of protection I can muster. I silently pray it doesn’t hurt, just as Beatrice assured me."Oh, for fuck's sake, no one is fucking you tonight. I'd rather let a man fuck me than do that," his words land like a crushing blow, the shock evident on my slackened expression. In a surprising act of gentleness, he crouches down, lifting me effortlessly and draping me over his shoulder. My mind reels in disbelief. Did he really just say that?He strides toward his bed, and I still brace myself for what is to come next, my heart pounding with a mix of dread and uncertainty. He tosses me onto the mattress, and instinctively, I sit up, drawing my knees close to my chest for a semblance of protection. My gaze locks with his, silently demanding an expl
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The following morning, I slowly stretch my limbs, blinking against the morning light filtering through the window. My curiosity piqued, I squint my eyes at the door, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever Beatrice is speaking to. However, before I can discern their identity, she closes the door and approaches me with a bottle of pills in her hand."Good morning," I greet with a yawn, covering my mouth with my hand as I sit up."Here you go," Beatrice says, placing a pill in my palm."What's this for?" I inquire, studying the small tablet she's given me."It's plan B, and these are your birth control pills," she explains. "Take them if you don't want the king to have both our heads." She offers me a strained smile before handing over the bottle of pills.Her words send a chill down my spine, and I swallow hard, accepting the bottle of pills. I consider telling her that I don't
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"Where are your clothes?" Nickolas's voice cuts through the tense silence, his grip on my arm still firm and causing a sharp pang of pain to shoot through me. Despite the discomfort, I refrain from speaking, knowing that it’s best not to say anything to make the situation worse."Ember took them," I respond truthfully, not hesitating to divulge the facts of the matter. After all, it's not as though Nickolas would take any action against her for her actions."Hmm, she did," Nickolas murmurs, more to himself than to me, his grip tightening further before he finally releases me. I massage the tender area where his fingers had dug in, silently waiting for him to speak further. To my surprise, he doesn't reprimand me or demand further explanations. Instead, he disappears momentarily, only to return with my dress—or rather, Ember's dress—in hand.My brows knit together in confusion as Nickolas offers me the garment; his ac
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Callum’s face is pale, drained of all color. He wets his cracked lips and utters, "My king," His voice hoarse. Attempting to sit up as I approach, he fails, thumping back into the bed. I notice the wet towel on his forehead, and a water witch by his left seems to be treating him. She bows in respect, and I wave her off.“How?” I ask, standing by the foot of his bed, finger on my nose to block the pungent smell of the healing herbs. "I pissed off a witch.""And she made you sick?" I question, raising an eyebrow."Yes.""Hmm, I didn’t know they could do that.""Me neither. I'm sorry, Your Majesty, for missing court these past two days, but as you can see, I'm actually sick.""Yes, I can see that, Lord Easterlin. I wish you a quick recovery.""Thank you, Your Majesty. Don’t worry; I'll be fine before The Bloodmoon Gala. It’s an important day for my daughter, and no witch sickness will stop me from attending."I nod, not expecting such confidence. He doesn't seem concerned, even though r
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We burst out of the castle, our suspicions confirmed as an arrow whizzes through the air, aimed directly at Nickolas. He snatches it out of the air before it can pierce his flesh, but the contact burns his skin, the telltale sign of Oak Tree venom. Lord Easterlin is really here, and the battle has begun.Nickolas tosses the arrow aside, his eyes flashing with rage as he moves toward the lycan who fired it, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. With a snarl, he plunges his hand into the attacker’s chest, ripping out his still-beating heart. Blood drips from Nickolas’s fingers as he watches the light fade from the lycan’s eyes, a grim smile playing on his lips. In an instant, he’s back at my side, his hand grasping mine tightly.“Let’s get you to safety,” he urges, his voice laced with concern.Despite allowing me to train, Nickolas is still reluctant to let me fight. I understand his worries, but he needs to realize that this battle is as much mine as it is his.“I want to fight
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I rush downstairs, my heart pounding with anticipation, not just for breakfast but for the chance to see Nickolas. Being in the same house but sleeping in separate rooms has been torture, especially with Mom still not trusting him, even though a month has passed since our arrival. She also discovered my pregnancy, thanks to my growing bump and unexplainable morning sickness. Despite her reservations about Nickolas, she's thrilled to be a grandmother again and can't wait for the new addition to our family.The past month has been eerily quiet, with no word from Lord Easterlin, which troubles us all. But we've been using this time to prepare diligently for the impending war. Nickolas is adamant about me staying out of the fight, even though I've assured him I'm fit enough. His men have been training relentlessly alongside our werewolf warriors. Today, we plan to discuss taking the fight directly to Lord Easterlin.As I approach Nickolas' room, a smile spreads across my face the moment I
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I tap my feet against the floor, my nerves fraying with each passing second as I wait for Dad to say something. We arrived back in the werewolf kingdom an hour ago. Nickolas just finished pouring his heart out to Dad, explaining everything that happened. He apologized profusely for nearly killing him on his birthday. He declared his unwavering love for me and his desire to build a life together. But Dad remains silent, his expression unreadable as he stares at Nickolas, who stands rigid with tension, his shoulders taut as he awaits Dad’s judgment.When Dad finally rises from the couch, Nickolas and I follow suit, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I interlock my fingers with Nickolas’, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is going to be alright,” I whisper into his mind. Since we have completed the mating process, we can send messages down our bond.“Welcome to the family, son,” Dad says, his voice warm as he pulls Nickolas in for a hug. Relief washes over me, a
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“What the fuck did you just say?” A familiar voice booms from the bottom of the stairs, startling me. I spin around, my heart leaping into my throat, to find Caleb standing there, his eyes wide with shock. Oh, heavens above! How could I have forgotten about Caleb? He must have been worried sick about me. I wonder how he found me here, of all places.“King Nickolas!” Caleb adds, his brows furrowing in confusion as he takes in Nickolas standing by my side. Panic grips me, and I quickly move to stand before Nickolas, shielding him with my body. I can only imagine what Caleb must be thinking - that Nickolas survived somehow, and now he needs to finish the job.“He’s real?” Caleb asks incredulously, pointing at Nickolas after noticing my protective stance. “Yes, and before you try to do anything, please hear me out,” I plead, my voice trembling slightly.Caleb closes his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief before crossing his arms over his chest. “You have one minute,” he grits out, his j
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The living room is as breathtakingly beautiful as the rest of the house, all plush fabrics and gleaming surfaces that speak of wealth and taste. I make my way to the nearest couch, ready to sink into its inviting cushions, but before I can even sit down, Nickolas sweeps me up into his arms and deposits me on his lap.“Whenever we’re together, this is where you sit,” he murmurs, adjusting me on his thighs, his arm wrapping securely around my waist, his hand splaying possessively over my belly.A soft smile tugs at my lips, warmth blooming in my chest at his casual display of affection. If someone had told me even a few short months ago that Nickolas would be this clingy, this openly demonstrative with his love, I would have laughed in their face. But now, feeling the solid strength of his body beneath me, the tender way he holds me close, I can’t imagine anything feeling more right.“Let’s hear it,” Eric prompts, settling into the armchair across from us, his eyes alight with curiosity
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“Can I see them again?” I ask, my voice breathless with anticipation, a giddy smile stretching across my face as I wait for Nickolas to reveal his back once more, to show me the tattoo of my lips adorning his scars. Even now, the reality of it steals the air from my lungs, making my heart flutter wildly in my chest.His answering smile is soft and indulgent, his eyes glowing with warmth as he slowly turns, baring his back to me. I suck in a sharp breath at the sight, my fingers itching to trace the delicate lines of ink, to map the ridges and valleys of his scars. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to seeing this tangible proof of his love, this permanent declaration etched into his very skin.“Can I touch them?” I whisper, my voice hushed with reverence, knowing how sensitive he is about anyone laying hands on his scars, even me.Nickolas turns to face me, his gaze locking with mine, the intensity in his eyes stealing the bre
