016~Ryvessa
1020 Words
I was bored out of my mind.
I didn’t know if Drexel was done with his council meeting, and I didn’t want to feel like a burden, constantly mind-linking him like some needy child.
So I got up from the bed and wandered deeper into the suite.
Funny how I hadn’t even explored the kitchen yet.
Food always just appeared for Drexel, so he clearly didn’t use it much.
I poked around the rooms, then noticed a door half-hidden behind a heavy curtain.
It looked old, neglected, dust clinging to the frame.
Curiosity won.
I pushed it open. Inside were paintings, not ordinary ones, but vivid, almost alive.
One caught my eye immediately: a woman who had to be his mother.
Beautiful, regal, with kind eyes and a gentle smile. Something about her felt… familiar.
I moved deeper. Another stack of canvases. I pulled one out and froze.
Alisha.
Her name was written in elegant script at the bottom corner.
The pose was pure model confidence long legs crossed, sharp feminine jawline, eyes that stared straight through the canvas like she knew exactly how stunning she was.
My stomach twisted. Sister? Cousin? Lover? The brush strokes were too intimate, too reverent.
Whoever she was, Drexel had painted her with care.
A lot of care, he never told me about her.
I carefully slid the painting back into the bag and rearranged everything so he wouldn’t know I’d been here.
My chest felt tight. He had a whole hidden room full of memories he refused to talk about.
And now I was the one feeling like an intruder in his life.
I headed to the kitchen to distract myself, maybe make tacos and tea.
But of course, the “Almighty Alpha” fridge was basically empty.
Funny how he wasn’t skinny; he probably never cooked.
I sighed and went to the bathroom instead.
While I was in there, I heard footsteps.
Not Drexel’s heavy stride, lighter, deliberate. Heels clicking on marble.
I finished quickly and stepped out.
There she was.
Sitting on his bed like she owned it. Black high bra top, cleavage on full display.
She shrugged off a jacket, revealing a bum shot so short it was basically underwear.
She didn’t even glance at me.
I stared, recognition hitting like ice water.
The woman from the painting. Alisha.
I summoned every ounce of cop courage. “Hey. You can’t just walk in here and sit on someone’s bed like it’s yours.
Who the hell are you?”
She finally looked at me...slow, dismissive, like I was a bug.
“Ushh, shush, peasant. I should be asking you who you are.
The new maid he hired, I assume? Because if you’ve been in this kingdom any length of time, you would know better than to look me in the eyes.”
She stood, hips swaying, and circled me like I was prey.
“Do you think I don’t know your type? Pathetic little thing.
Let me introduce myself properly.
Drexel is my love, my soulmate, my jewel, my desire, my everything.
To you, he’s probably just your boss. We’ve been together for sixteen glorious years. And here you are some random hooligan staying my matrimonial room.”
My throat closed. Sixteen years. Matrimonial room. The words landed like punches, for the fact that Drexel never told me about her was weird, and it was true.
Pictures don't lie, do they? f**k love played me again.
She kept going, voice dripping venom.
“Go get me some water. I hate long talks with cheap beings.”
I stood frozen, vision blurring. So this was it.
I’d been fooling myself. He had a whole life, a whole woman, and I was… what? A fling? A mistake? A temporary obsession?
I knew love was never kind to me. It always ended like this.
“Get the water, i***t,” she snapped.
“Or do you think I have time for your drama?”
I looked at her...really cooked. And something cold settled in my chest.
“I bet you would regret this,” I said quietly.
“Because if he could fool me, lie to me, make me feel like I mattered… wake up.
You’re dreaming.
He won’t love you either.
Even if he says it every day for the rest of your life.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
I didn’t answer. I whispered to the bracelet: Take me out of here. Out of the palace.
Anywhere peaceful.
A sharp tug pulled at my chest, like something inside me resisted for a second...then the room vanished.
I landed in a garden. Quiet. Moonlight on roses. An oak tree nearby.
I sank against its trunk and let the tears come. Hot, angry, choking sobs.
Why did I trust him? Why did I let my body fall for him when my head screamed danger? Why did every part of me still ache for him even now?
I hate love. I hate it so much.
But the worst part? I still love him.
Even after this.
I cried until my throat hurt, until the sobs turned quiet.
Then someone sat beside me. A man. The same beings again.
“Hey, Carino… why are you crying?”
I wiped my face. “Carino? Who’s that? I’m Ryvessa.
And I’m fine now. Shush away...I’ve got no business with you.”
He tilted his head, amused. “Feisty. I like that.
For your information, Ryvessa, you’re in my kingdom. My palace garden, to be precise.
So tell me… where exactly am I supposed to shush to?”
I stood up fast, heart slamming. “Your kingdom? So who’s Drexel then? Isn’t he the king?, wait where am I”
He smiled...slow, dangerous, beautiful. “Poor beauty. Drexel’s been lying to you.
He isn’t the king. I am. This whole territory belongs to me.
Fair to say, darling… I’m Draven. Greatest king on earth...leopard blood from my father, dragon fire I took when they betrayed me and stripped my powers.”
I couldn’t process it. The words blurred. My vision tunneled.
Everything went black. I passed out.
- Writer
