Chapter Five
1163 Words
I weakly peeled my eyes open for the umpteenth time, as far as I could remember.
I let out a loud groan at the ache layering every inch of my body. I tried hard to remember what happened, but my mind was a blank white fog.
“You passed out.” I jumped and let out a squeal at the deep voice interrupting my solitude.
“M-my K-King.” I stuttered. I somehow didn't feel his brooding and intense presence in the room.
“Elder Isolde gave you something to numb your pain. It will begin to wear off soon,” the King explained like he could read my mind.
His hooded eyes held a wild struggle within them as he watched me like a hawk, making me feel on edge.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart raced when I remembered running into the woods, trying to get away from here—from him, and then—I leaned closer into the wall behind me at the flash of my memory of him in his wolf form.
I couldn't remember anything after that. Did he do something to me? I began to fidget even harder than before.
“You almost turned,” he rumbled out.
“W-what?” I sucked in a breath. “A-almost, I almost turned?” I squeaked, my eyes widening in shock.
The King remained silent. I clutched onto my head in a bid to recall exactly what happened. I remembered the feel of excruciating pain, the ache still lingered in my bones, and it still left me shaken, but for the life of me, I couldn't recall anything other than that.
“Try not to get stressed out.” I looked up to find a pair of stony green eyes scrutinizing me carefully.
My eyes shifted to my lifted fingers. I flexed them a few times, a pressure in the back of my eyes causing them to burn.
The thought of possessing a wolf side soon became a farfetched dream over the years.
“But I didn't turn?” I asked quietly, my eyes still on my fingers.
“No.” His magnetic voice pulled me, and I blinked at him.
I wanted to ask why, why I was cursed to be this way, but I was afraid to hear his answer.
To hear another person tell me that it was because I deserved it.
Because I was nothing but a filthy monster.
“This has never happened before?” he asked, and I shook my head at him, my neck stiffening at the recollection of the look in his eyes the last time I replied with a gesture and not my words.
“No.” I cleared my throat, sighing loudly.
“Did you hurt her?” I whispered after a long pause, when he didn't budge from his position to leave.
“Who?” His unwavering eyes focused on me.
“My sister,” I said, playing with my fingers.
“Is she your sister?” he questioned again, his voice tight, and my brows creased.
I was aware his question carried an under-meaning, but I couldn't figure out what he meant exactly.
My lips parted open and I hesitated for a moment. “Not by blood,” I began.
“But you still consider her your sister, even after she almost killed you?” the King's voice resonated powerfully.
My chest rose and fell.
I peeled my lips open to speak, but my throat tightened.
This was the first time someone outside of my subconsciousness pointed fingers at Joan's deeds.
I wanted to ask myself that same question too.
“She’s all I have left of her parents,” I admitted, my throat loosening, my shoulders slumping.
She was the only living connection I had left of the people that ever showed me how it felt to be loved and cared for unconditionally like every other kid. No matter what, I owed it to them to at least keep their child alive, no matter how much I got hurt.
It was the least I could do in return for the good years they gifted me in my whole life.
“Yes.” I inhaled. “Even after that, I still consider her my sister,” I said.
He could judge me all he wanted. He was the King. He got to live in this bubble and a magnificent palace, all because he was born to a line of power and succession.
Not everyone had that kind of luck. Some of us were born as a curse, to be miserable, and to become a purge in the lineage of werewolves.
He had no right to judge me.
I was so deeply carried away by my emotions, I momentarily forgot whose presence I was in.
My fists were balled so tightly beside me, and I didn't realize it. Even without a word, I was certain he must have figured why I was angry.
Anger was a rare emotion for me, especially the guts to have that anger directed at the King.
I was afraid his wolf must have taken offense, but his hooded eyes—which were focused on my balled fists—lifted up to mine.
He watched me like he was unraveling every secret of mine, secrets I didn't even know I had.
My heart suddenly slammed against my chest at what he must have seen.
My red eyes underneath my lenses were glowing brightly from my unsteady emotions.
I ducked my head down, focusing on my thighs, swallowing hard.
My anger had dissipated long ago, but my emotions were still unsettled. I forcefully tried to rein it in.
I let out a loud gasp at the pair of boots in my line of sight.
The King's footsteps were like that of a night walker—a shadow, even in his wolf form. He had the ability to conceal his footsteps and presence if he wanted to, even with his suffocating and intruding Alpha King genes.
A rough and calloused finger lifted my chin up. My heart continued to slam in my chest, tingles rippling through my jaw and face, sending a shiver down my spine.
He bent his head to my level, his intense, fiery-hot gaze uncovering my soul.
My light brown eyes met his green ones, filled with a mystery that held me together, one that pulled and sucked me in.
My eyes grew larger by every second.
“Regalia, my mate.” I pinched my eyes closed. He could not have said that. I—I must have only imagined it.
He had no reason to say that, but those words wouldn't stop echoing in my mind.
I let out a loud gasp, my heart and mind distressed and in confusion. My eyes flew back up to his.
“Y-you said I-I was your mate,” I choked out, my eyes wide and unbelieving.
- Writer
