Filed to story: The Alpha Kings Hated Slave
She raised her eyes from the floor and met his. “I don’t live a life of pretense, Master. I-I only live. I have no plan for the future. I find myself a slave because of the monster my father was, and I’m trying to survive. But I live like Danika.
Not
like King Cone’s daughter.”
At her softly spoken words, Lucien still watched her with that unreadable expression on his face. The way his eyes searched hers was as if he was trying to read her sincerity.
What was it about him and reading people’s eyes?
Finally, he averted his eyes. “Have you heard of the circumstances that pushed Remeta to insanity?”
“No, Master.” She had heard it from Baski, but it especially pleased her that he wanted to tell her about it.
“King Cone took her in as a slave. He made a nine-year-old a king’s slave. Then the day came for her to do the job that was given to her, and she could not finish that task. He ordered her to be whipped and raped by several men,” he growled, his eyes a bank of rage at the memory.
She had heard this story before, but it didn’t stop the tears that filled her eyes as he told her about it. God, it was a wonder Remeta was even a little sane in the head. “Creator,” she whispered miserably, lowering her head in shame. Why did her father have to be that kind of person? Why did a man like that have to father her? Her heart filled with pain.
The king watched Danika. He saw the sincerity of her actions, and it baffled him greatly, just like it had done earlier in the day.
She was Cone’s daughter. How was this even possible?
But he saw it with his own eyes: tears that couldn’t be faked. Her hand was resting protectively on his damaged leg, even without her awareness.
Who is this woman? This woman that makes me sleep? Keeps the demons at bay? Who is this woman who helped Remeta come out of her shell? Who makes Remeta want to get better?
Who is this woman whose touch doesn’t make my skin crawl? Whose presence gives me peace?
He didn’t know that woman at all. He only knew Cone’s daughter. The former Princess Danika. The present Slave Danika. He didn’t know this woman. Who was she?
For the first time, new questions came to his mind.
Can I draw strength from her? Can I keep her close? Let her in? Can she help me like she helped Remeta? Does she have the power to face my demons?
The questions were so unbidden. So forbidden. But they were there.
She is the daughter of a monster.
The thought filled his mind. The notion came with pain and bitterness. Resentment he had nurtured for years.
“Get up,” he ordered.
She got up like he instructed. Standing upright, she stood close to him. The way he watched her, she didn’t know what he was thinking. He looked mighty angry; his brows showed he was deep in thought. The anger made her nervous, and she resisted the urge to take a step back from him.
Suddenly, his expression dissolved. He snaked his arm around her and urged her forward with one push of his hand. Now she stood at the foot of the bed, so close to him that his head was almost touching her midriff. Then he wrapped his arms around her and placed his head on her belly in an embrace.
She stood frozen. Stunned.
He was touching her all by himself. He was putting his hands on her. Not to turn her over on the table and shove himself into her body. Not to position her and take his pleasure from her.
His head on her belly was a welcome weight. He raised his head and stared at her again. “Who are you?” he let out; his tone filled with exhaustion.
She shook her head, not knowing what to say to that. “I’m your slave, Master.”
He lowered his head again, placing it on her belly. He closed his eyes. “Tell me about your mother.”
The shock wore off and her body relaxed against his. A great feeling of euphoria washed over her, but she hid it well.
She jerked at the question. She never expected it. “She d-died when I was five. My nanny, Mrs. Marry, the woman that raised me, told me s-stories about her. She was the loveliest of women, that was what Mrs. Marry said. She also said that my mother really enjoyed helping people and hated when slaves were mistreated. Mrs. Marry said that Queen Auroria was—-“
His head snapped up. “Queen Auroria was your mother?”
She nodded her head. “Yes.” Then she hesitated.”Did you know her?”
He rested his head back on her belly again. “I’ve heard of her. Good queen. Didn’t know she was the queen that married Cone.”That was all he said as he closed his eyes again.
Danika wanted the king to tell her what he knew about her mother, but she didn’t press. The urge to hold his head to her was overwhelming, but she curled her hand into a fist to resist it. She didn’t want to ruin this moment with him-whatever this moment was.
Danika welcomed the silence that followed his embrace. She stood there; breathing softly while the silence washed over them, and time dragged by. She hurt for him. He was carrying too many burdens. Too many responsibilities. Too many demons tormented him.
His shoulders were wide, but not wide enough to take all those burdens. No one had shoulders that could carry the world on it. She wished there was a way to take it all from him-even for a moment.
Finally, she could not resist it anymore. Danika raised her hands and wrapped them around his head, holding him to her. His curls were so soft, and she buried her fingers in them.
She expected him to pull away from her. He didn’t.
And when she started stroking his head in rhythmical soft strokes, he gave in to exhaustion and tuned out the pain from his leg.
His breath evened out in sleep..
THE SLAVE PRINCESS
As the king slept in her arms, Danika stood there, still caressing his head. She wouldn’t mind standing there for hours if it would make him sleep well. He was a man who never slept.
Time dragged by; his labored breaths filled the air. His arms loosenedaround her, but never fell away.
She wanted to keep running her hands through his soft hair. She didn’t realize she’d started humming until a new soft sound joined his breathing in the air. She wished there was a way to erase the past fifteen years of his life. Ofall their lives. But then again, wishes have never been horses or beggars would have ridden them, too.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Mistress Vetta walked into the king’s chambers. She stopped short at the sight in front of her, her lips gaping apart in shock.
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?