Filed to story: The Alpha Kings Hated Slave
She watched him unashamedly, hungrily. It was just her awake, and she’d wanted to watch him up close. While he slept, none of the hard lines on his face were present. There was no frown line. His mouth wasn’t pursed in displeasure.
He is handsome,
Danika thought in the back of her mind. Even with the scar that started from hairline and ran down his cheek, his neck and disappeared into his clothes, he was still handsome.
She moved her body a little, and without looking down, she felt where his arms met her waist while her own hand rested on his chest. She didn’t dare breathe hard, or she would wake him.
Danika didn’t know how long had passed as she watched him, committing this image of him with all his guards down into memory.
Finally, she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. She fell back asleep.
Slowly, Lucien started coming to awareness. The darkness of the night had disappeared from the bedroom, replaced by the light of the day.
He’d slept through the night, and he’d slept without nightmares. Again.
His eyes found Danika, who slept beside him. His forehead creased, and he frowned. It was her.
It was not a medicine Baski might have made or Vetta’s sexual expertise or writing scrolls until he was exhausted. It was her. It was Danika.
Lucien didn’t understand how that was possible, but he had slept again, and that was all he could think of.
He got up from the bed and went to the bathroom. He had a day in court today, and it was important that he attend on time.
Danika stirred again when she heard water rushing. She got up from the bed and groaned as her sore muscles protested. She picked up her clothes, her mind going back to the night before, and her cheeks heated badly. Several times, she disobeyed him. Would he punish her for it?
It didn’t matter if he did punish her, she concluded. It was worth it.
Danika was completely dressed before the king was done taking his bath.
He came out wearing a long flimsy garment that clung to his wet body. She bowed her head as he stepped into the bedroom.
“Good day, Master,” she whispered, squeezing her hands nervously in front of her.
“Do you know how to hunt?”
The question was unexpected, and she drew a blank for a few seconds. Then she nodded and stuttered out, “Y-yes, my king.”
“Get ready at noon and come to court. After court, you will join me on the hunting ground,” he ordered.
“Yes, my king.” Danika was flustered. The court, she could understand. But why would he want to take her to the hunting game of kings?
Slaves did not attend that. Queens, yes. Princesses, yes. Mistresses, yes. The privileged, yes. But never slaves.
Why would he want to take her there?
“Do not be late for court,” he said sternly.
“Yes, my king.”
He turned fully and stared at her. “Danika, I’m your master, not your king.”
Her eyes widened, and she lowered her head the more. “I’m so sorry, Master.”
She hadn’t been aware that she was calling him that. Slaves did not make such punishable mistakes; what’s wrong with her!?
He turned away again and dismissed her. She bowed her head and started out of the door.
Every muscle in her body protested each movement she made. She closed the door behind her and started walking through the hallway of the king’s quarters. She almost reached a turn when a woman came around the corner-the king’s mistress.
Vetta was having a pleasant morning, but the smile on her face disappeared when she saw Danika. She had just come out of the king’s chambers, and Vetta knew it was not because he summoned her this morning. She walked close to Danika, and the slave bowed to her. The king’s scent clung to her so much it prickled her nose and made her anger burn.
The slave slept on the king’s bed; Vetta was very sure of that. Her hand on her clothes squeezed so tight, and she imagined she was squeezing Danika’s head.
Danika bowed to her. “Mistress,” she greeted and walked past her.
Vetta’s arm shot at her, and she dragged her back. “You. You slept in his bed, didn’t you!?”
Danika nodded, seeing no point in denying it. “It was his wish.”
Vetta walked closer and grabbed hold of her hair, anger and jealousy burning through her. She yanked hard on Danika’s hair, Danika cried out as pain shot through her body. She could feel the pain of strands of her hair ripping from her scalp. Vetta didn’t let go.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you slave!? Do you think you’re more than a slave because you suddenly know what the king’s bed feels like?” she snarled, vibrating with anger.
Danika gripped her gown and fisted it hard. She had the overwhelming urge to slap the mistress hard across the face and damn the consequences like she did before. It was an urge she resisted. Instead, she held Vetta’s hand in her hair to reduce the pressure before the mistress pulled a clump of her hair out.
“You’re a dirty slave!” Vetta growled. “And that’s what you’ll remain. Do not think otherwise, do you hear me!?”
“You’re hurting me,” Danika said calmly, glaring hard at the mistress. She did her best to hide the pain so she wouldn’t give the witch satisfaction.
Vetta only tightened her hand on her hair. “That’s the least of your problems, you slave. I might throw caution to the wind and kill you one of these days just to be rid of you.”
“Let her go, Vetta.”
At the deep voice of the king, Vetta let go of her hair as if it burned her fingers and whirled around.
“My king!” she gasped and bowed her hair. “G-good day, my king.”
The king stared at her with that unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes were dissecting her. Vetta lowered her head in shame under such scrutiny.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?