Alpha King's Caged Mate

Chapter 7 She’s in heat

COLE

I slouched in my seat, resting my heavy, drunken head in one palm, my elbow braced against the table as I watched Marcel Fox raise a toast with Aiden Moran across from me. I’d lost count of how many glasses of wine I’d downed, but it was the only way I could endure this tedious charade where everyone wore pleasant masks that hardly fooled anyone.

And I wondered how many feasts Anastasia would conveniently arrange until she gave up on the idea of trying to make me brush up on my childhood memory with Skyla Fox – which, I believed, had been none.

If I’d had a few more drinks, I might’ve asked her if she had mistaken Jack for me in that false memory.

“Sir Moran, it’s lovely to meet you again at the palace.” Marcel said flimsily. He had down quite a few glasses of wine as well, and he sounded rather tipsy. “I never got the chance to ask whether you enjoyed your stay in our land when you left. You know, the daughter of Lord Vince wept a lot after your departure. A shame she couldn’t win your favor.”

Aiden responded with a polite, pleasant smile. “You’re teasing me, Lord Fox. Lady Vince is far out of my league. Too beautiful, too noble for someone like me.”

“How come? Trust me, she’s totally into you.” Marcel laughed, then added with a grin, “There’s no bachelor more sought after in Hescor—well, except for His Majesty, of course.” He turned to me, his expression full of flattery. “But I’m afraid our King will soon be released from his bachelor’s status, with the Selection approaching.”

I wasn’t sure if I returned his smile. Frankly, I couldn’t be bothered to fake one. The biggest obstacle during our inspection journey across Hescor had been House Fox. The old, cunning Lord stuffed our schedule with revels and empty pleasantries rather than showing us the ledger he was legally obliged to present, as the Master of Coins.

“Oh, brother, stop playing matchmaker,” Anastasia chimed in. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, eyeing Aiden with amused interest. “Surely Sir Moran has someone. All those ladies offering you their handkerchiefs and you never accept one? Don’t tell us you’re a devout follower of singlism. The King’s Guard are allowed to marry now, you know. Tell us who’s the golden girl in your mind and let our King arrange a marriage for you!”

Aiden’s lips curled slightly.

“There is someone,” he said. “A girl I’ve loved for as long as I can remember. But it’s really one-sided. I’d like to keep it a secret for now—for her sake. But I do hope His Majesty will grant me permission to marry her… when the time comes.”

“How lovely,” Skyla cooed.

A tightness bloomed in my chest. The sincerity in his voice was almost nauseating.

“Well. One sided love can sometimes lead to a tragedy.” I said with a smile, and Aiden’s gaze turned to me.

“Perhaps,” he replied. “But only if love turns into something else.”

I watched him, feeling the corner of my lips curling downward. The scene in the garden earlier popped into my mind. The way he had gazed into her eyes. The way she had reacted - blushing with tenderness and sweetness instead of alarm or forced obedience.

“Well, that’s very intriguing,” Anastasia spoke up, raising her goblet. “Let’s hope Sir Moran gets his lover one day. To Sir Moran’s secret girl.”

“To Sir Moran’s secret girl.” The rest all echoed, raising their glasses for a toast.

As I emptied my glass of wine, Mr. Barrett skittered toward me hastily.

“Your Majesty,” he whispered, looking quite embarrassed.

“Evelyn Caddel…is in your chamber,” he said.

I quirked a brow at him.

“The guards said she arrived on her own. And she looked… a bit strange. Do you need me to send her away? Lady Skyla will - ”

“What do you mean by strange?” I cut him off sharply, already rising from my seat. Marcel and Anastasia watched me with shrewd curiosity, and Skyla called out, but I didn’t bother to care. The boring feast had long passed my tolerance.

“She…was panting heavily,” Mr. Barrett rushed to keep up with my stride.

I could already smell her heady scent as I approached my quarters. “Don’t let anyone approach,” I instructed him sharply. Mr. Barrett widened his eyes, probably taken aback by my expression. Then he nodded.

I opened the door to my chamber.

Evelyn was huddled on the floor, clutching her hands tightly to her chest. She was trembling, gasping.

She didn’t seem to realize my arrival until I stepped over, bent down and cupped her chin to raise her head. Her eyes stared into mine amorously. Her skin was flushed.

She leaned into my touch and purred, “Cole?”

I froze at her motion and voice.

She was in heat, I quickly realized.

That’s why she called me that and looked at me like that. As if she’d forgotten I was supposed to be her tormentor.

As if she wanted me.

I pulled away, looking at her with coldness. “I didn’t summon you tonight, Evelyn Caddel. Why are you here?”

She blinked, slow and dazed. The heat must have clouded her mind, otherwise she would never allow herself to behave like this. She crawled toward me eagerly, reaching out to touch me again. Her palm slid against my chest. Her thighs rubbed together unconsciously.

“Please…” she breathed.

My throat went dry, as if it were my neck, not my tunic, that she was gripping.

“Please what?” My voice came out hoarse.

“Please…fuck me,” she murmured, breath catching. Her body sought mine, her hand guiding me down between her thighs, where the wetness had already soaked through her undergarment.

My body tensed in response. My temple throbbed. I could feel my sanity hanging by a thread, but I remained still.

“Is that your way of begging a King? I taught you how to beg. Haven’t I?”

She looked up at me bashfully. Then, she pulled the thin nightdress over her head, letting it slip off her naked body. She peeled off her soaked panties.

Slowly, she dropped onto her knees.

“Please…fuck me, Master,” she begged docilely.

From where I stood, I could see the curves of her neck – flushed and delicate and unclaimed.

My hand rose involuntarily, finger threading through her soft, damp hair, giving a slight tug.

Her pupils were dilated and unfocused – the raw desire in them a stark contrast to the guarded indifference she usually wore.

Pulse beat against my ears.

I knew I should pull away. I should shove her aside and ordered her out. I should mock her, humiliate her, laugh at her with the harshest words and cruelest movements.

I should remind her that she had long abandoned the bond between us, and that she no longer deserved a relief from it anymore.

I should have said, “Ah, see, Evelyn Caddel. I told you you’d grovel and beg. I told you you’d suffer. This is your lesson.”

But I didn’t.

Instead, I kissed her. Her lips trembled as I trailed soft kisses down their curve.

I scooped her up and pressed her beck against the mattress.

Her hands slipped beneath my shirt, and my stomach clenched.

I should stop. I told myself. This shouldn’t go this way. Stop before you do something you’ll regret afterwards.

But I couldn’t.

She moaned and squirmed as I parted her thighs and kissed her core, lapping and curling my tongue until her cries grew louder with need.

“Cole…Cole…Please…I couldn’t take it anymore….” She gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair.

With every sound she made – every time she called my name – my heartbeat thundered in my ears, a blinding, relentless metronome.

She stilled suddenly as her c****x hit. Her arched back collapsed onto the mattress, her chest heaving with ragged breaths.

I stripped off my shirt and pants, releasing the tension I’d held in check. I leaned over her.

“Say you want me,” I whispered into her ear.

“I want you, Cole,” she whimpered, drawing a sharp hiss from my throat.

This was ridiculous. This was f*****g pathetic.

But this… this was what I allowed myself to do.

I pushed myself into her slowly, and as I did, I heard myself saying –

“Say you love me, Evelyn.”