The Alpha King's Mind-Reading Maid

#Chapter 10: Defeated

Leopold's POV

Six months ago, my palace turned into a revolving door of concubines.

I know it is only tradition, and that this is something of a rite of passage for every king until he finds his True Mate, but still, most days I find myself wishing they would all just disappear.

The purpose of the royal concubines is to provide a young king with a variety of s****l outlets unto which he is able to direct his physical desires without having to make any sort of commitment.

Once he finds a True Mate and makes her his Alpha Queen, the palace concubines are usually dismissed with a hefty sum as compensation for their time and service.

But such things do not interest me. In fact, nowadays they bore and annoy me.

That isn’t to say that I’m not interested in women.

Landon started bringing in women when I turned eighteen, and for the first seven years of this, I was capable of interacting with them in the… intended capacity. I enjoyed s*x, like any young man entering s****l maturity, and I even started to like the company of a few of the women.

Do I wish that I could just be a normal man and enjoy the pleasures of life so willingly awarded to me due to my status alone?

Of course, I do.

I am not the reason that the implementation of this tradition has had such awful results so far— my wrathful wolf is to blame.

Ever since concubines started arriving at the palace six months ago, swooning and flitting about as they’ve always done, my wolf’s anger towards them has turned the atmosphere from flirtatious to somber.

I know that my wolf will most likely be the one to recognize my True Mate, not me. But every woman that’s stepped forward, offering herself as a temporary relief to my s****l frustration, has been harshly rejected.

It’s been six long, grueling months devoid of intimacy for this Alpha King.

Now, this whole ordeal has turned into torture for me and some twisted game for the women who come to the palace.

It seems, to my utter dismay, that this new maid is no different from the others.

For a moment, there, I truly believed that Cecilia might prove herself worthy of being at my side as a loyal handservant. But after this shameless display of promiscuity, after she dared invade my privacy against my direct orders, it’s clear to me now.

She’s just like the rest of the delusional Omega slaves, showing up primping and preening, shirts pulled low and skirts pulled high, hoping for a shot at becoming another object of the Alpha King’s desire.

It’s pathetic.

Cecilia's POV

I stand, frozen with fear and shame.

Seduce the king?

The thought has truly never even crossed my mind. I’m not naive; I know that this is the goal of many others, including poor Lucy. But there’s no way to explain to him right now that I’m not that type of person.

“No, Your Highness. Never. I only observed the tension in your shoulders and was hoping I could help you relax,” I reply, my voice urging him to believe me.

He still looks skeptical.

“I swear, I would never overstep a boundary like that,” I plead. “Forgive me for intruding, Your Highness.”

Leopold looks at me, his eyes distrustful. I feel genuine remorse, but I was only acting to save my own life before it was in immediate peril.

Without saying a word, he releases his vice-like grip on my arm and turns away.

I stare at him, holding my breath.

Finally, he begrudgingly waves a hand towards his back, motioning for me to rub his shoulders.

I exhale and get on my knees next to the tub, positioning myself behind him so that I can knead the sore muscles.

I gently work my fingers into the knots in his upper back, working the tension out of his body with careful, circle motions. I wet my hands a few times as I move from area to area to lessen the friction on his skin, and slowly advance upwards along his spine and around his shoulder blades.

To my validation, the Alpha King appears to be enjoying the massage. I deepen my strokes and utilize my thumbs, knuckles, and palms in a soothing rotation to ease the muscle tissue.

Suddenly, I feel an inexplicable tugging in my abdomen and Lora’s voice pops into my head.

Want! she says, her voice sparkling with restless excitement.

Want what? I try to quiet her, but I can tell she’s starting to whimper, as if dying to break free.

This is a very inconvenient time to let her out.

I try to maintain my focus on the task at hand, concentrating hard on the movements themselves. But the more contact I have with the king, the louder Lora’s whining becomes.

I can feel her urging me to do something, and it takes all of my willpower not to give in to the innermost sense of need that’s blossoming in me. My face feels hot, and all that’s going through my mind now is the notion that I need something to satisfy me.

Without thinking, I glance up at the back of Leopold’s neck and suddenly realize the depth of my own subconscious yearning.

The hunger burning within my body surprises even myself. I get to my feet and step back shakily, suddenly overcome with dizziness.

At that moment, my foot lands on the corner of the wet towel I’ve dropped on the floor and slides forward. I stretch my arms out to catch my balance, but I am already falling backwards.

I wince, squeeze my eyes shut, and brace myself for the impact that… doesn’t come?

It takes a moment for me to realize that Leopold has caught me in a tight embrace. I’m stunned at how fast he was able to react to my fall in order to prevent me from hitting the ground.

But more than that, I am overcome by the warmth spreading through me from every point at which our bodies are touching, all the way to my fingertips.

This is dangerous.

I push him away in a fit of panic, and put some distance between us to collect my bearings.

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I did not intend for that to happen at all. I shouldn’t have touched you like that without permission.”

He looks at me with a hint of displeasure, but doesn’t scold me.

“Thank you for saving me from falling,” I add quickly.

“Just don’t be so clumsy, and I won’t have to save you again,” he mutters. “Bring me sleeping garments and get me dressed.”

I happily rush out and grab his nightclothes, setting them neatly out on his bed.

The king comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, and sits down in front of me. I blush, but I’m pretty sure he can’t see the color in my face in the candlelight. At least, I hope he can’t.

I pay utmost attention to detail as I proceed through the dressing process. I’m determined not to let my emotions get the better of me, and tell myself over and over to simply go through the steps like I’m a robot.

When Leopold gives a “hm” of approval and dismisses me, I bow, unable to look him in the eye, and leave without another word.

Back in my room, my heart doesn’t cease its racing.

Why am I having these kinds of feelings about my king?

Not only is this sort of thing totally foreign to me, but it’s also completely inconvenient. Worse still, I don’t know why this is happening.

Sure, he’s attractive, but I’ve been around attractive men before. None of them have ever made me feel like this.

I lie down in bed and tune in to Lora’s thoughts to see if she has any useful input for me.

Don’t know, she says impatiently when I ask if she knows why I’m experiencing this inner turmoil. Want to go! So restless here.

I know, I think back to her. Just settle down.

She whines, as if pacing around in my head. I’m only left with more questions. Note to self: that’s the last time I look to Lora for any helpful answers.

I wonder if all I’m feeling can be chalked up to a normal bout of nerves. After all, Leopold is of a higher class than anyone I’ve ever interacted with, male or female. Surely it’s possible that I’m just a little out of sorts because he’s someone I could never approach in my everyday life.

Maid woman! I suddenly hear.

“Yes, Your Highness!” I answer immediately, leaping out of bed.

But to my shock, there’s nobody else there.

And Leopold has never called me “maid woman.” He’s always addressed me by my proper name. This must be…

You can hear me? the voice says.

My heart sinks. Up till now, I’ve only been able to listen in on the thoughts of the king’s wolf secretly. I say nothing, hoping that the wolf might not have recognized my response as a confirmation that I can hear it.

The wolf growls, and my goosebumps crop up across my arms.

Answer or die, he snarls, and I am left with no choice.

“Yes,” I say, defeated. “I can hear you.”