3
1371 คำ
Erick
She intrigued me.
That was the only explanation for the quiet storm she stirred in me, for the way her presence sat like a pulse in my chest—throbbing, persistent, unfamiliar.
The Rolls-Royce cut through the sleeping city like a shadowed blade.
Inside, the cabin was silent, bathed in soft moonlight, yet she was sharp in my vision.
Sophia Miller.
The woman who walked into marriage with a stranger. The woman who looked not through me, not past me, but with eyes that didn’t beg or tremble, or judge me.
She hadn’t flinched when I loomed over her during the ceremony.
She hadn’t hesitated when she signed my name beside hers.
And now, in the quiet of the car, she sat with the same poised stillness.
No fear.
No false modesty.
Her back straight, her gaze distant but alert. Like she was preparing for war.
Like she had already survived one.
I leaned slightly, studying the curve of her cheek, the angle of her jaw, the fine tremor she didn’t quite let show in her fingers. She was fire wrapped in silk.
Most women who sat beside me behaved like they were seated next to a reaper.
But not Sophia.
Finally, I broke the silence. “Do you know who I am?”
She turned her head towards me, eyes steady. “Should I?”
The corner of my mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but as close as I ever came to one. “I am Erick Cheshire. King of the Lycans.”
Recognition flickered in her gaze.
She didn’t gasp.
Didn’t pale.
She Just blinked once, slow and deliberate.
“So you’re the one they call the Man Without a Heart,” she said.
She had heard of me after all.
“I am.” I replied with a soft nod.
She tilted her head slightly, watching me. “You certainly carry the title well.”
Something shifted in my chest, subtle but real.
Not offense.
Not amusement.
Maybe a sliver of curiosity.
“Does it scare you?” I asked her.
Her eyes turned to the window. “Nothing scares me anymore.”
I believed her.
There was no bluff in her voice.
No trembles.
Just quiet truth.
That kind of steel doesn’t come from stories. It comes from surviving something that nearly broke you.
I leaned back, steepling my fingers. “Tell me the truth, Sophia. Why did you do it? Why step into a marriage with a man you didn't know? Why agree to marry a man with my reputation, when you could have simply walked away?”
She turned back to me, eyes clear and unguarded. “Because I had nothing to lose. And maybe…” Her voice softened. “Maybe I wanted to prove to someone that I was still worth something.”
I nodded once. That, I understood.
The weight of needing to reclaim your worth, to take it back from someone who has tried to bury it.
The car rolled on in silence, thick with thoughts I didn’t speak aloud.
After a few moments, she returned the question. “Why did you agree to marry me?”
I stared straight ahead.
“My mother is dying,” I said quietly. "She wanted to see me married before she went. And she wanted a grandchild. A legacy.”
Sophia’s expression shifted. Her lips parted. “I’m sorry.”
I waved a hand. “Sympathy doesn’t change fate. But giving her this wish? It might ease her passing. Even if only for a little while.”
What she said next surprised me.
“I will honor our vows.”
I turned to her. Surprised to hear her say that.
“I agreed to this marriage,” she continued, voice, steady. "So I’ll live as your wife. And if a child is what you need… I’ll bear it.”
That stirred something deeper than respect. Something quieter and harder to name.
She wasn’t offering herself from desperation.
She was offering herself with dignity.
With purpose.
She had come into my world uninvited, unplanned and yet, she stood like she belonged in it.
When we reached the estate, I led her past the towering black iron gates of Cheshire Manor.
Our ancestral stronghold.
The mansion loomed beneath the moon like a monolith of obsidian and silver, carved into the side of the mountain.
The guards bowed without question. They didn’t dare to raise their heads while I walked.
They knew what could happen if they did.
She walked beside me like she had always belonged here.
Inside, the scent of old stone, and power filled the halls. Velvet shadows danced over the walls, cast by ancient flames.
It was a palace meant for kings.
A fortress built from history and blood.
“This is home now,” I told her.
Sophia said nothing. Her fingers grazed the black marble banister as we climbed the stairs. She touched the house like it was alive.
Like she was claiming it.
I brought her to the master's chamber. The largest room in the manor, designed for the king and his chosen.
Firelight danced across the gold-trimmed windows and cast flickers over the massive bed that loomed at its center like a throne wrapped in shadow.
“I won’t force anything,” I said.
She looked me dead in the eye. “I never thought you would.”
That trust...so instinctive, so bare. It unsettled me in a way fear never had.
That night, I undressed slowly.
Not to intimidate her. Not to tempt. But simply to share the silence.
I didn't want to rush her, but when she touched me, it felt like I was touched by an angel.
When she touched me, it was gently, like she wasn’t afraid of the cold beneath my skin.
I allowed it.
There was no firestorm of passion.
No dramatics.
Just the solemn ritual of two people choosing to share their breaths, their space, and warmth.
The union of two broken things trying not to break each other.
She didn’t cry out.
I didn’t command.
We simply… existed.
Together.
And for the first time in years, when I closed my eyes, I didn’t dream of war. I didn’t dream of blood.
I slept.
—
Morning light kissed her skin as she stood on the balcony in a pale robe, her hair caught in the breeze. She looked less like a stranger and more like a queen.
My Queen.
"Erick...I"
There was something about the way she said my name.
"What?" I asked.
She didn’t turn when she spoke.
“I have to go back.”
I sat up slowly. “Back where?”
“Moonlight Pack.”
I tensed. Why would she want to go back?
She understood the question in my gaze, so she explained why she had to go.
“I left everything,” she said. “Clothes. Keepsakes. Things that… mattered. I need to go back. I need to see that place one last time. To say goodbye.”
I stood from the bed, bare feet touching cold marble. “You’re not going alone.”
She turned to me. “Erick—”
I held up a hand. “I won’t come. That I’ll allow. But you’ll have protection.”
Her lips parted in protest.
“You carry my name now,” I said simply. “That makes you mine. And I protect what’s mine.”
She inhaled sharply. But didn’t argue again.
I summoned Vladimir and Dorian. My most trusted wolves.
Blood-sworn brothers, raised with blades and discipline, born of strong werewolf bloodlines and hardened in my service.
They stood at attention, awaiting my command.
“You will escort my wife back to Moonlight Pack. She is not to be questioned. Not to be delayed. And not to be disrespected.”
They nodded.
But I wasn’t finished.
I stepped closer, voice dropping to a blade’s edge. “If she returns with so much as a bruise…” My eyes locked on theirs. “If there’s even one scratch on her…”
I let the silence hang for a breath too long.
“Then you both lose your heads.”
They bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
- ผู้เขียน
