4: She Was Foolish
875 Words
Nudoz watched as Notera knelt before him, her hands steady despite the blood that darkened his skin. The cloth tightened around his wounded foot, pressing against the place the blade had bitten him. Pain throbbed there, but he did not flinch because pain was no stranger to someone like him.
“Take your injured foot to the pack’s physician,” Notera said quietly, her voice edged with concern.
This made his jaw hardened. “It is nothing,” he replied coldly.
“But your—” she began, her fingers tightening around the blood-stained cloth.
“I never called you to tend my wounded feet,” Nudoz said, cutting her short. He pulled his foot from her grasp, uncaring of the blood that followed. “You know why you are here, Notera.” His eyes hardened as they fixed on her.
Notera knew why she was here. Not to tend his wounded leg, nor to ease his pain, but to serve his c**k. She was his w***e, his to use as he pleased, without question or refusal.
“Yes, Your Highness,” she said, nodding obediently.
She rose slowly, unzipping her dress, the robe falling from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She stood before him naked, her body no longer her own but his to command. The cold air kissed her skin, but his gaze burned far hotter.
His eyes fixed on her breasts, as she touched herself deliberately.
He diverted his gaze from her, she no longer held his interest. Reaching the table, he poured himself a drink. He drank without haste.
“Put on your clothes, Notera,” he said coldly, rising from the chair.
He wasn’t in the mood for s*x anymore. He had called her earlier, before Sifas brought Kehanar to him, when his body demanded him to release some c*m. He had planned to f**k Notera, to bury himself in her.
But Kehanar had ruined that. She had provoked him, defied him, and struck his own knife into his feet.
He did not spare Notera a single glance as he left the room, as though she had already ceased to exist. He moved through the dim corridors toward the chamber where it had happened. Kehanar was there now, receiving treatment.
When he got to the room, he sighed quietly. He pushed the door, and it opened slowly. A physician was attending to her, with a few servants standing nearby. They all paused the moment he stepped in, their bodies stiff with fear.
“Leave.” The word left his mouth cold and final.
They bowed quickly, not daring to question him, and hurried out at once. None of them looked back, they left her alone with him.
He walked into the room fully, his presence filling the quiet space. He faced Kehanar, who was still unconscious on the bed, and unmoving.
Even from where he stood, he could see the cut on the side of her head, the dried blood marking where she had hit the wall.
“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath.
He was ready to turn back and leave, ready to forget this moment, but he paused. His eyes lingered on her again, watching her closely, as if expecting her to wake and defy him once more.
He then walked to the bed, stopping close to her. He didn’t sit, he remained standing, looking down at her unconscious body. His eyes moved to her face, then to the cut on the side of her head, the dried blood marking where she had struck the wall.
How could she strike him with a knife?
She knew who he was, she knew the consequences, and was damn aware that strike was not hard enough to kill him.
Yet, she still struck him anyway, without fear, without hesitation, without caring what he would do to her after.
Doing something like that, endangering her own life so carelessly. It made him see that she might think herself fearless, might believe she was brave enough to stand against him.
But she was not fearless, she was foolish. Foolish for risking her life, and the lives of her mother and brother.
She had tried something like that on him, dared to strike him, and perhaps she believed it was bravery. Perhaps she believed it made her strong. But it did not, It was a very stupid act.
She had no power here, no protection. And yet she still chose defiance, as if she did not understand the danger she lived under.
His eyes moved from her face to her chest. The torn clothes revealed too much skin, barely covering her breast, the fabric hanging loose and violated. His expression darkened instantly.
He had seen this earlier before the knife incident… but it was interrupted because of the same knife incident.
Someone had done this to her. Someone had dared to touch what was under his rule.
His jaw hardened, he would not let it go.
Whoever was responsible would answer for it.
Kehanar was his slave, not anyone’s to touch this way. No one had the right to treat her this way… except him.
Whoever had done this had crossed a line they could never return from.
They would pay dearly.
- Writer
