Amarok Restraints
804 Words
“My lord!” a maid burst into Amarok’s chambers, breathless with urgency. “The lady… she’s gone into heat.”
She barely had time to process the words herself before her king bolted past her, his tall, imposing figure already moving through the corridor with unnatural speed. Her mouth parted slightly in shock. He must be feeling it too.
Amarok didn’t slow his pace until he reached her chamber. The moment he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room—and found her.
She had already collapsed.
Faint and feverish, she lay limp on the large bed, her skin flushed and her breathing shallow. Her body radiated heat, and her scent—gods, her scent—filled the room like wildfire. Something primal surged within him. His fists clenched as he took a steadying breath.
“Everyone, out,” he commanded sharply, and the maids obeyed without question, quickly vanishing from the room.
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving him alone with her. He stood still for a moment, gazing at her from across the room. She looked fragile, almost too small in the massive bed—more like a doll than a bride. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his temples pulsing from the weight of the emotions threatening to break free.
With little hesitation, he shifted—bones cracking and realigning as his human form gave way to that of a massive black wolf. His paws hit the ground softly, and he padded over to her side.
As a man, he could control his desires. But as a beast… it was harder.
Still, his wolf moved with careful intent. He curled himself beside her, his fur brushing her trembling form. Her body was nearly burning with heat, her scent overwhelming and wild. He leaned forward, eyes glowing, and gently licked the mark on her neck—the spot where his bite had branded her during the ceremony.
The moment his tongue touched her skin, she twitched.
Her body, as if recognizing the touch of its mate, began to settle. Her feverish heat slowly began to fade, her breath evening out. He continued, gently and patiently, licking the mark in slow, soothing motions. With each pass of his tongue, the redness eased, and her body relaxed.
But then—her eyes fluttered open.
Golden met silver.
Her gaze, wide and confused, locked with his. Bewilderment danced in her irises, mixed with fear and something else… recognition.
Her body tensed, her lips parted, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to speak—but couldn’t.
If she weren’t in such a delicate state, if she weren’t trembling from fever and weakness, perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to hold himself back. Her scent alone was enough to drive him into madness. But Amarok was many things—a beast, yes, a killer perhaps—but he would never take a woman unwilling, especially not one who was unconscious and fragile.
No matter how strong the bond called to him.
He continued licking the mark until she gave a soft exhale, and her eyes slowly closed again. Sleep reclaimed her, her body clearly exhausted. The tension left her limbs as she slipped into unconsciousness once more.
Only then did the wolf pause. The heat in her body had reduced, and even his own had lessened. With a grunt, he pulled back and shifted again, bones snapping and reforming until Amarok, the man, stood once more.
His eyes fell on her as she lay still on the bed.
Now that he could see her clearly, he studied her features more carefully. She didn’t look like a princess. In fact, everything about her seemed wrong for someone of royal blood.
His gaze fell on her arm, where a faint scar marred her pale skin. Gently, he took her hand and turned it over. Her palms were rough, the kind that came from hard labor and not luxury. No noblewoman’s hand should look like this.
He frowned.
Was she… a servant?
But that couldn’t be. She smelled of the Bacaas bloodline, as pure and undeniable as fire. No servant carried that scent. So why did she look like someone who had lived a life far from comfort?
The questions weighed heavily on him.
Something wasn’t adding up.
He would wait until she woke—and then, he’d get answers.
With a final glance, he turned away from the bed and walked to the door. His hand hovered on the handle for a moment, then he looked back at her once more, sighing deeply before leaving the room in silence.
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The next morning…
A soft rustling of leaves outside the window and the chirping of birds woke her.
What does he want from me now?
Is it my time to die?
- Writer
