DRUNK

His sister comes to see me as she promised.

And she encourages me to rest, and follow her brother's orders.

He doesn't return for the whole of the day, and leaving his room without saying goodbye and thanking him for his care feels disrespectful, so I remain inside, waiting for him to arrive. When at last, the heavy footfalls that signify his advent reach my ears, I sit up on the edge of the bed, alert. He throws open the door, and I stand up to greet him when the sight that meets my eyes instantly keeps me quiet.

There is a woman with him, familiar, and one I've seen somewhere.

She has half her clothes off, and the love bites on her neck and right above her breasts are red and fresh. I immediately turn around at the sight, feeling second-hand embarrassment and to my chagrin, a bit of envy.

"Are you still here?" He asks, his words slurring.

It instantly occurs to me.

He's drunk.

For the first time since I first saw him, he doesn't give off the aura of a king-powerful and intriguing. Right now, he only looks like a man.

A drunk man.

"Go somewhere else. Get out." He mumbles, and the irritated look he often shows me is back on his face. Hurriedly, I start to leave, when all of a sudden, he calls me back. 

"No. You should stay, Gemma. Stay here." He directs with uncoordinated movements, beckoning on me to come. "Karen, go off. I'll see you another time."

The other woman bows, glares at me, and then walks outside the room with the sound of the double doors slamming against each other, a clear sign of her exit, and a final goodbye. With her gone, he staggers forward and crashes into the bed on his back, leaving me confused on what to do. Since he gives no express orders, I only stand there, waiting for one.

"I want to be anyone but the king sometimes." He declares, his voice low in his throat. "Are you listening, Gemma?"

"Yes, your majesty."

"Come to bed and give me a head massage." He orders.

He wants me to give him a head massage.

I do as he says, get in the bed, and sit myself near his head of full white hair, covered slick wet with sweat. His eyes flicker open and close, and the skin of his neck, visible to me, bulges with his prominent Adam's apple sitting beneath it. It makes me wonder... 

What if I just end my mission right here by cutting his throat open?

The thought leaves my head almost as soon as it comes in. 

He is the Alpha Grey, the White Crow.

He is dangerous.

My fingers work their way through his hair, watching his eyes flicker open and close in his half drunken state, while my inner wolf radiates joy from within over being so close to him. He will be asleep any moment from now, and I might have to care for him the way he did just the other night. 

"Why did you come into my room the other night?" He asks out of the blue, and I wonder why he is asking. "Since that night, I haven't failed to see you over and over again."

I try to think of a reason I can give him to explain, to save my skin. He ends up solving that problem by speaking up.

"You know how to draw my attention, don't you?"

"No I don't, your majesty."

"Yes you do," he laughs, and the smile on his face is a thing of beauty. It makes me feel one with him, and that he is finally warming himself to me. Maybe my hard work is paying off.

"When you were brought, you were the only one who didn't raise your head. I had to come see you, and you were indeed the most beautiful of them all.

He thinks I'm beautiful...

He's done nothing but look at me with irritation and disgust since we first met. How serious was he to say that I was the most beautiful among them?

"And..."

His voice trails off, his eyes finally shutting close in sleep. His lips are only very slightly parted, leaving a glimpse of his teeth, and I wonder what it would feel like to touch them.

Slowly, I move away from his head, and then crawl over so that my face looms over his. Again, I wonder what it would feel like to touch them. It might annoy him if it wakes him up, but what if I do it very gently...

I feel childish as I raise my finger and press it against the warm skin.

He doesn't move an inch.

What would it feel like to kiss him?

I lower my lips to his, and gently press them against him. I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't resist it, as my inner wolf literally howls at the contact between us, and a spark of fire pulses through my body.

All of a sudden, I feel his hand grabbing my hair and drawing me closer to him, the trapped sound of a gasp in his throat reaching my ears. My body twitches in desire, and our one kiss is an unending, lasting battle of tongues.

He rolls me over, putting my body beneath his, and in one clasp, unhooks my brassiere and bares the soft, supple flesh to him. His fingers twist my nipples between them, and his lips start to leave wet trails down my neck. One hand abandons one nipple and leaves it to his mouth, while and tracing its way down, where it meets my warm, wet slit, and elicits a moan from my lips.

His body crashes atop mine, and the warmth of his skin is the only thing I can feel, right before the words that ruin the whole thing for me.

"Oh Karen. You know how to please me so well." He mumbles.

And in that moment, all the ecstasy and pleasure die off, leaving me hurt.

He thinks I'm someone else.

The thought remains in my head long after he rolls off of me, lost in his drunken sleep, a gentle snore filling the room from his huge form. For me, sleep doesn't come as easily, and I lie awake for a long time before shutting my own eyes at last.