The King's Gaze
1459 Words
Elara didn’t remember how she left the throne room.
Her legs had carried her out, but her mind was still inside, trapped in that golden gaze.
The corridor seemed to spin around her, and the bucket in her hands felt impossibly heavy.
She only realized she was crying when Mira found her.
“Elara? What happened? You look pale.”
Elara opened her mouth, but no words came at first.
Then she whispered,
“He was there.”
Mira froze.
“The… King?”
Elara nodded.
Just saying it made her stomach tighten.
“I didn’t know,” Mira said quickly, guilt evident in her voice. “I swear I didn’t know he had returned. I would never have let you go alone.”
Elara took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.
“He spoke to me…”
The words felt wrong in her own mouth.
Wrong—and dangerous.
Mira covered her lips with her hand.
“Did he… did he hurt you?”
Elara hesitated.
No.
But also yes.
“No,” she said at last. “But he could have.”
Silence fell heavily between them.
Mira reached out and gently touched her arm.
“You were lucky.”
Lucky.
That was what they called it in that castle.
Before Elara could respond, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Both of them turned.
One of the guards approached, his wolf-shaped helm concealing his face, his large frame impossible to ignore. He stopped far too close.
Always too close.
“Well, what do we have here?” he said, his voice thick with something unpleasant. “Two little mice whispering.”
Before Elara could step back, he shoved her against the rough stone wall. A gloved hand clamped around her throat to keep her still while the other moved roughly over her body.
He squeezed her chest hard, pulling a pained gasp from her, and tugged at the fabric of her uniform until the seams strained.
“They say village girls are tighter,” he murmured, his hot, foul breath against her face. His knee forced its way between her legs, pushing her skirt up in a humiliating display before Mira’s horrified eyes.
“If you spread your legs for the King in there and walked out in one piece, there must be something special between them. Why don’t you show me what he liked so much?” His grip tightened. “If you’re good enough, maybe I’ll protect you from the others.”
Elara squeezed her eyes shut, tears burning.
The guard laughed, his hand sliding up her thigh, rough fingers scraping her skin as he tried to force his way into her most vulnerable space.
“Stop.”
The command came sharply from the end of the corridor—a Beta.
The guard growled in irritation but withdrew his hand from beneath her skirt. Elara collapsed to her knees, trembling violently.
“Return to your post, soldier,” the Beta ordered. “And you, human—get out of here.”
Elara spent the next twenty-four hours trying to become a shadow.
Every time she caught sight of armor in the corner of her vision, her body reacted with a jolt of panic.
She thought she could remain invisible.
She was wrong.
On the morning of the second day, while scrubbing the floor of the east gallery, the Beta supervisor stopped in front of her.
“Leave that. The King demands your presence in one of the private chambers of the royal wing. Now.”
The fear she felt toward the guards was instantly replaced by something worse.
Panic.
A private chamber?
The King summoning her could only mean one thing.
Death.
Elara couldn’t feel her legs as she walked.
When the doors opened, the chamber was wide and austere.
But all she saw was the man at its center.
The Alpha King sat in a dark leather chair, his posture relaxed in a way that only made him more threatening.
His legs were spread in effortless dominance, elbows resting on the armrests as if everything around him belonged to him by right.
He wore no crown.
He didn’t need one.
Power radiated from him—almost tangible.
“Come closer.”
Elara took a step.
Then another.
Each movement felt wrong, like walking straight into the jaws of a beast.
She stopped two steps away, her head lowered.
Even so, she could feel the weight of his golden gaze on her.
“My boots are dirty,” he said.
Elara lifted her eyes just enough to see them.
Black leather. Heavy. Stained with dust and earth.
A cloth fell to the floor in front of her.
“Clean them.”
The command made her body go rigid.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
Then her knees met the cold floor.
The stone bit through the thin fabric of her uniform.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the cloth, no matter how hard she tried to control them.
When she touched his boot, she realized just how close she was.
Too close.
Between the Alpha King’s legs.
She began to clean.
Small movements.
Careful.
The silence in the room felt suffocating.
Elara forced herself to focus only on the task—the dust, the dirt, the texture of the leather beneath the cloth.
Anything to avoid thinking about the man above her.
But it was impossible to ignore him.
The heat of his body seemed to radiate through the air.
And his scent—
It wasn’t like the guards. Not sweat and iron.
His was different.
Something deeper.
Something she had never felt before.
Her heart began to race, and she didn’t know why.
“I saw you in the corridor yesterday.”
His voice cut through the silence.
Elara’s eyes widened.
The cloth stilled against his boot.
“I saw the way you bend for the guards,” he continued, cold disdain lacing his tone. “Tell me, human servant…”
One of his boots moved.
The tip pressed lightly under her chin, forcing her to lift her face.
His golden eyes locked onto hers, holding her in place.
“How many of them have had you?”
The blood drained from her face.
“Three?” he went on, almost thoughtfully. “Five?”
Her silence seemed to irritate him.
“Or have you already lost count?”
The cloth slipped from her hands.
Kael nudged it aside with his boot.
“I asked you a question.”
His voice was lower now.
More dangerous.
“Answer.”
Elara lifted her face fully this time.
Her eyes were filled with tears—but not only fear.
There was something else.
Something raw.
Something wounded.
Something that refused to break.
“I didn’t choose that,” she said, her voice trembling… but steady.
Silence fell.
Her hands clenched the fabric of her skirt.
“I never choose anything here,” she continued, her throat tight. “They do it because they can.”
She drew a breath, but the words kept coming.
“Because no one cares what happens to someone like me.”
Her eyes closed for a brief moment.
When they opened again, they were shining.
“But I am nothing!”
Kael remained still.
For the briefest moment, something shifted in his expression.
And it irritated him.
His golden eyes darkened.
“Leave.”
The word cut through the room like a blade.
He rose abruptly, towering over her like a wall.
His shadow fell over her kneeling form.
“Get out of my sight,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, “before I grow tired of your noise…”
His eyes narrowed.
“…and let that guard finish what he started.”
Elara didn’t respond.
She stood too quickly, nearly stumbling over her own uniform, and rushed toward the door.
She didn’t dare look back.
Didn’t dare breathe until she was outside the room.
The corridor spun as she ran, her footsteps echoing against the cold stone.
She had survived the Alpha King.
Again.
But that wasn’t something to be proud of.
Because in that kingdom, surviving the King’s attention rarely meant freedom.
Most of the time…
It meant he wasn’t finished with you yet.
Behind her, in the silent chamber, Kael remained still.
His golden eyes fixed on the door that had just closed.
That human had cried in front of him.
As if she were someone worthy of pity.
And that irritated him more than anything.
His jaw tightened.
“Insolent human…” he muttered to himself.
But the words felt strange in his own mouth.
Because for the first time in a very long time…
the Alpha King was thinking about a human.
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