The Lycan King’s Defiant Surrogate by Riley Above Story (Chapters 31 to 40)

Chapter 31

Caleb paces outside of the hospital room where inside, the doctors continue to try to save Harper’s life. It’s been thirty minutes so far, and still they work. A nurse he stopped told him, with fear in her eyes that it could be hours still before their work is done.

“There’s so much bleeding,” that nurse said. “As the doctors work, they have to be careful not to strain the heart too much or we could lose her…”

Damned fragile humans.

Caleb snorts now as he turns, ready to start his trek in the opposite direction.

Tristan, infuriatingly, continues to watch him from nearby as if he is studying him, some kind of specimen in a cage. Just one more thing Caleb will punish Tristan for when Harper is in the clear.

Tristan makes a humming noise as if realizing something, and Caleb stops at his pace to glare at him.

“What?” Caleb demands.

“Forgive me, my King,” Tristan said. “But I was just noticing that… it seems as if you might genuinely care for Harper.” “That vile slave woman has been nothing but a thorn in my side since the moment she was brought here,” Caleb snaps.

This is only mostly true, but he keeps those quieter moments locked deep away inside of him. He hasn’t forgotten the feel of her fingers in his hair as she gently massaged his scalp, helping him relax in a way that had never been done before.

Nor as he forgotten the way her body twisted and bowed delightfully beneath him in the throes of their passion. She could pretend to fight him all she wanted, but in the end, every single time, she curled those blunt fingernails into the meat of his back, tugging him closer with the full of her weak human strength.

She desired him. He could smell it in the air and taste it on her skin. Her words were ever-lies, but her body betrayed her truth.

If only it could betray other truths as well…

“I only care about my child,” Caleb continues. “If this slave dies, she will take that secret with her. I cannot allow that to happen.”

“Of course,” Tristan says, though his sarcastic tone marks a clear disbelief.

Caleb has half a mind to throttle this man right now. He could find another beta easily enough.

But he’s too busy right now.

He returns to his pacing.

Tristan stays blissfully silent.

Hours later, the doctors emerge from her room. Caleb grabs the closest one by the front of his scrubs and pins him into a nearby wall.

“I will hear good news now,” Caleb growls.

The doctor’s hands go up defensively. His face pales. “Y- yes, King Caleb. The patient is stable. She should pull through, though we will have to continue monitoring her…” An unwelcome shock of relief fills Caleb’s body. He hates the sudden feeling and shoves the doctor away roughly, taking it out on him.

“I will see her now,” he says and turns toward the door. “B-but my King….!” the doctor starts to say.

Caleb swivels on his heel, eyes blazing, fury firing within him. Surely this lowly servant is not trying to get in the way of the King?

The doctor immediately slinks back, frightened. “She is in a weakened state, my King. In your omnipotence… if you could extend… caution…”

“I will do whatever I please,” Caleb spits. Then turning toward the door, he pushes through it.

Harper is on the other side, asleep. Other nurses are in the room, checking the machines connected to her arms with tubes and wires.

“Get out,” Caleb snaps.

Seeing Caleb’s rage, the nurses tremble with fear. Unlike the doctor, they don’t need to be told twice to flee the room and clear the way for Caleb.

Approaching Harper, he sees that her frail body is covered in bandages and bruises. Even her neck is wrapped up in gauze. He growls lightly, knowing his marks are covered. At the sound of his growl, she begins to stir.

Good. He will finally have some answers.

I feel the moment I return to consciousness because my body hurts all over. It’s a dull kind of hurt though, the kind that feels distant – likely from pain-killing drugs.

Nearby I hear the beeping of a heart monitor. It seems to be matching in time with my own heartbeat.

Am I in a hospital? How strange. Shouldn’t I be dead?

It takes some time before I convince myself to blink my eyes open and actually see for myself where I am and what’s happening.

There’s a handsome man standing beside my bed. Gods above and below, he’s the most gorgeous male I’ve ever seen in my entire life, even with that brooding look in his eyes.

Who is he? I wonder.

Then I remember, and my stomach sinks.

King Caleb leans over my bedside, glaring down at me from above.

“Tell me why you didn’t beg me for mercy when you had the chance,” he says, voice sharp with barely-retrained anger. That seems to be his preferred way of talking to me. Even on my deathbed, I can’t escape it.

It would probably kill him to treat me with a modicum of kindness.

“You wanted answers that I’ve already given you,” I tell him.” That hasn’t changed. I will tell you until I’m blue in the face, there was never any child.”

“You liar…” he growls. He’s intimidating, flashing his sharp canine teeth, but after everything I’ve been through – or maybe it’s the drugs – I don’t have it in me to be afraid.

“I’m not lying,” I insist.

His eyes narrow. “I should have let you die.”

“But you didn’t,” I remind him.

At once, his hand goes to my throat and he starts to squeeze. The dull pain amplifies slightly, especially when his fingers dig into the wounds made by the lion’s sharp teeth. Even then, I can’t manage more than a tired whimper. “You will tell me honestly what I want to know,” Caleb demands. Some of his rage seeps into his voice, calling forth his Alpha tone. It makes me want to comply, but that won’t make a difference.

I’m already complying. He just doesn’t believe me.

“I never had a child,” I say again.

“That’s not my question this time,” he says coldly, surprising me.

I blink at him. What else could he possibly want?

“Before you passed out, you said a man’s name. Samuel,” Caleb spits the name out with disgust.

My heart drops down into my stomach. The heart monitor picks up how fast the pace increases which only seems to make Caleb angrier. His fingers curl tighter. His upper lip twists into a snarl.

“I recognize the name. He is the soon-to-be Alpha of your pack, is he not? I would know your relationship with this ‘man.”

It’s hard to swallow but I manage, my throat pressing up against Caleb’s palm. Otherwise, I stay still and quiet.

Caleb is irrationally quick to anger, and he believes me to be his property. Who knows what he would do if he knew my heart belonged to another?

“What does he mean to you?” Caleb growls. “What do you mean to each other?”

Chapter 32

“Answer me,” Caleb demands.

I can’t possibly tell him the truth. In his rage, he might purposefully seek out Samuel just to kill him.

“We’re like siblings,” I say.

Caleb glares at me, clearly not believing me.

“It’s true,” I double down. “Soon, he’s even going to be my brother-in-law.” That truth still stings, but I share it regardless. Despite my feelings for Samuel, he’s unlikely to choose me in the end.

Whether what he told me recently on the phone was the truth, or if it was what he said the day I left, he still picked Leah in the end.

Just as well, since I’m never getting out here alive.

Caleb slightly loosens his hold on my neck, not enough to let me go, but enough to relieve some of the pressure and allow me to breathe normally.

“You called out his name on your deathbed,” Caleb says confidentially like he’s speaking facts. “A person does not do that with a sibling. He said his name like a lover…”

“He’s not…”

Caleb leans down over me, bringing his face very close to mine. “It does not matter what he once was. He will not be your lover any longer. You belong to me.”

Just as I think Caleb might kiss me, he shifts at the last moment and brings his lips near my ear instead. Just beneath my ear and above the bandaged skin of my neck, Caleb closes his mouth over an exposed patch of tender flesh and greedily sucks in his mark.

Even tired and sore, my body reacts to him at once. My pussy gets wet and my nipples harden. I start to squirm on my hospital bed, wishing he would touch me in other places, and then touch me more.

I hate this needy desperate side of myself that only seems to come alive with him. Ever since he left me wanting in that office room, I’ve wanted him to finish. Even a near-death experience couldn’t cut my desire for this man.

Foul and vicious as he is. Demanding, loathsome villain.

After breaking from my skin, he admires the mark he made. He licks across it once, tongue flat, then brings his lips up to my ear.

“I forbid you from thinking about any other man,” Caleb commands. “You are my property. Your body and mind belong to me.”

“My mind will always be my own,” I say weakly. I can’t defend my body as readily, not with the sexy pheromones it’s likely putting into the air. Caleb could easily call my bluff.

“Vile woman,” he snaps, then kisses me hard. He laps his tongue into my mouth, persistent and demandingly stroking my tongue with his.

I force myself to keep my hands on the bedsheets, but too soon, they move of their own accord, rising to his shoulders where I hold on.

When he breaks the kiss, he growls, eyes flashing with lust. “If you were well enough, I’d fuck you raw.”

A whimper escapes the back of my throat, despite my best efforts to bite it down.

Laughing lightly, he strokes a hand over my forehead to my hair and hushes me. “There, there. Soon, my little whore. When you are well again, I will fuck you so hard that you forget your own name, and only know mine.”

I shiver at the promise, then condemn myself.

I hate this man. He treats people like toys and plays with their lives. I shouldn’t desire him at all, let alone actively want him in my bed.

Still, as he snakes a hand under the covers and slides his fingers down, those protests go out the window pretty quickly.

I try to grab his wrist in a weak attempt to stop him. “No…”

“I’ll train your body,” he says. “If not your mind. I’ll touch you every time you are near me. Then, anytime you so much as glance even a picture of me, your body will alight. I want you begging for it every time I enter the room. My horny slut, craving my cock.”

The dirty talk should not work nearly as well as it actually does, but when his filthy words combine with the sudden press of his fingers to my click, all I can do is claw onto his shoulders, throw back my head, and whine.

Caleb hums, pleased, as he continues to toy with my body.

Leaning down to my chest, he finds where one of my hard nipples jerks out against my hospital gown and covers it with his hot mouth. The friction of the gown, combined with the insistence of his flicking and twirling tongue, sends spikes of pleasure shooting through me.

Beside us, the heart monitor beeps faster and faster.

Caleb releases my nipple after a long moment, but only so he can move to the other and give it the same treatment.

Arching my back, I press my chest forward, giving him more access. He slides his free arm under my back to keep that arch, as he continues to suck and lick his fill. All the while, his fingers do magical things to my clit, tugging and rubbing.

I’ve been so horny and on edge, that I can already feel myself reaching the peak.

I don’t know what I want… For him to slow down? To go faster? To stop? To keep going?

My mind is a mess.

He doesn’t seem to care about any of my input, continuing his onslaught with his mouth and hands.

Before long, I’m arching even farther.

I try to stop my cries, but they still push from my lips.

“Ah… Ah!”

Caleb pops off my nipple. “Say my name, slut. Tell everyone who owns you.” Immediately he latched back onto my other nipple, giving me no time to catch my breath – or my thoughts.

“C-Caleb!” I shout. Or, more, it’s wrung from me, as my orgasm strikes, shaking my limbs all the way down to my core.

I tremble. My pussy quivers, pushing out more dampness. I claw my fingernails into Caleb’s shoulder.

He smiles against my breast.

Then, I pass out.

Rock hard in his pants, Caleb needs his own release. For a moment, he considers fucking Harper while she’s unconscious on her bed, but… where is the fun in that? She needs to be awake to enjoy it, and her frail body might not handle the strain.

What he needs is a member of his harem to suck him off. Now.

Turning away from Harper, he pushes out of the room, storms past Tristan and the doctors, and heads for his bed chamber.

As expected, one of his harem leans against the wall outside of his door. She’s already topless like he summoned her that way. When she sees him in his state, she pouts out her bottom lip.

“Please allow this lowly one to pleasure you, my King,” she purrs.

It should excite him, this damp wet hole ready to be filled.

Instead, it only frustrates him.

He doesn’t want this one right now.

“Get out of the way,” he growls and pushes his way into his room. He slams the door closed behind him, locking everyone out.

Alone, he tears open his pants and his cock springs free. He takes himself in hand and begins to stroke in earnest.

Ca… -Caleb!

Thinking of Harper shouting his name brings him to the edge in record time.

If only he was inside of her, he’d have her screaming all night.

“Fuck,” he growls and cum.

Chapter 33

Compared to the depths of the coliseum, the hospital is like a five-star hotel. The hospital bed is plush. The room is relatively private, with just a few doctors and nurses coming in and out now and then. They even give me food that tastes fresh, not moldy, and hot or cold water whenever I ask for it.

As the hours and then days pass, Caleb stays far away from me. Once or twice I have seen him walk past the open door of my room, but never does he come in to see me. At least not while I’m awake. Sometimes when I wake from a nap I can see him in the air, but it could be my imagination.

I spend most of my time sleeping.

Once, Tristan does come by to visit, though he doesn’t stay long.

“I just wanted to see how you were feeling,” he says.

“Tired,” I reply. I always feel tired lately. That’s probably part of the recovery process.

Tristan frowns like something is bothering him.

“What is it?” I ask. With Caleb, I’d bite my tongue, but Tristan has always been the more approachable of the two, even if he looks at me like I’m an idiot half the time. The other half, he stares at me with cool disinterest.

He has neither of those expressions right now, which troubles me.

“You’ve been sleeping a lot,” Tristan says.

“My body needs time to recover,” I say. Then I remind him, “I am human.”

Tristan’s flat bored look returns. “I haven’t forgotten. But even so, your healing progress is slow. You should show substantially more improvement than you have.”

I have my own theory, that maybe my body is purposefully sabotaging us so that we can stay in this plush bed for longer. But I suppose that doesn’t really make sense. The doctors’ medicine should help fix my body even if it is being stubborn.

Glancing up, I eye the IV bag which slowly drips down a tub and into my arm. That’s how they’ve been giving me all of my medicines now.

Tristan walks closer, inspecting the bag.

“Have you noticed anything strange?” he asks. “Anyone who is hanging around that shouldn’t be? Any unusual smells?”

I’m not about to tell Tristan that I scented Caleb in this room. He’ll really think I’ve lost my mind. There’s not a chance in hell that Caleb cares enough about me to make sure I’m alright.

Yet Caleb wouldn’t fit the bill of what Tristan is asking for anyway. As King, Caleb is allowed to be wherever he wants. Nothing strange there.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I honestly don’t know. I’m asleep most of the time…”

“Keep your eyes open as much as you can,” he says, his features hardening into something stern and even more unhappy than usual. “The moment you see anyone who doesn’t belong, you call out for the King, do you understand?”

She says it like he means it, so I nod. “Okay.”

I don’t want to tell him that he’s scaring me, but the fact remains that he has. Perhaps what he’s gifting me here is fair warning.

This place may seem like a five-star hotel but it is still a murder house.

Someone could be trying to kill me.

Caleb is not walking past the hospital ward because he is concerned. It’s more of a way to further his authority. For too long, he avoided this section of his grounds, allowing the doctors and nurses here to become complacent without his order.

By showing his face, he’s reestablishing the proper hierarchy.

It makes perfect sense to his very logical brain.

And while he’s at the hospital ward, it would be just as logical for him to wander past the room of his slave, just to be assured that her health isn’t in decline. After all, he needs her alive to be able to locate his child.

With these thoughts in his mind, he makes this trek somewhat of a ritual, one he takes three times a day, in the morning, midday, and at night.

For all of his trips so far, he has found Harper sleeping. This time is no exception. However, this time, Tristan is standing outside of her door speaking softly with a doctor. Tristan’s face is a blank slate, but the doctor looks worried. It’s enough to put Caleb on edge.

Storming forward, Caleb immediately grabs the doctor by the shoulder and yanks him toward him.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The panicked doctor looks from Tristan to Caleb, back and forth like his head’s on a swivel.

“Harper isn’t getting better,” Tristan says. “In fact, she seems to be taking a turn for the worst.”

“What?!” Caleb shouts. He glares at the doctor, hate rising in his heart. “You said she was stable.”

“She w-was… my K-King.”

“You said she would recover in time!” Caleb shouts even louder.

“S-she should have!”

“Then why?” Caleb shakes him.

“We don’t know, Sir.”

Useless, Caleb throws the man aside and turns to Tristan instead. “Tell me what is happening here.”

“I’m not sure yet, but I have some suspicions,” he says.

“I would know them,” Caleb demands.

Tristan hesitates like he’s not ready to voice his thoughts.

Caleb doesn’t give him a choice. “Now, Beta.”

“I think someone might be poisoning her.”

Poison…?

Someone would dare try to take what belongs to him.

Enraged, Caleb tears away from Tristan and pushes open the door to Harper’s room.

At once he can tell something is definitely wrong. Her cheeks are swollen and her color is gray. The doctors run tests all around her.

With hooded, tired eyes, she watches them. “I don’t feel so well…” she says.

Caleb moves past the doctors to an open spot near Harper’s pillow. She turns to look up at him.

“I think I’m dying…” she says, almost as if in a daze.

Something uncomfortable twists in his gut.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls. “If you die, I will immediately destroy your entire pack, including your precious Samuel.”

Fear flashes in Harper’s eyes, immediately replaced by defiance.

Good. That’s the same look she gave him in the arena when she fought off those lions for far longer than her meager abilities should have allowed her.

It’s that impossible determination that should keep her alive.

“You stay alive,” he orders. This time, she had better listen to him or there would be actual hell to pay.

I am so tired, but I try to stay awake, afraid that if I close my eyes for too long, I might never wake up again.

Despite my best efforts, I nod off every now and then, though I’m quick to wake up again with a start.

It’s during one of these starts that I notice a figure beside me not in scrubs but instead dressed in fine silks and satins.

I recognize her, though with my tired, wounded mind, it takes me far longer than it should to place her.

She’s one of the harem’s women…

But I know her from elsewhere…

From before…

She’s from our pack.

“Nina?”

Nina glances down at me with an eerie kind of smirk on her face. The good humor does not meet her sharp-eyed gaze.

Holding up a needle, she clutches the tube of my IV.

“Don’t worry, Harper. It will all be over soon.”

Chapter 34

“What is that?” I say, trying to reach through the fog of my mind. It’s still so difficult to piece things together. To my knowledge, she is no doctor or nurse. She should not be touching those IVs. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing, Harper?” Nina says, laughing cruelly at my cloudy ignorance.

“I don’t… know…” Then, like the clouds suddenly parted in my mind, I’m overcome with a revelation.

Nina isn’t here to help me, to offer support, or to check on me because she’s from our pack. Nina is trying to kill me!

Has she been poisoning me all along? Is she the reason I haven’t been getting better?

But that doesn’t make any sense. Yes, we certainly don’t agree on everything about this place. She wants to climb up the harem ladder. I just want to go home. But I thought being from the same pack gave us a special bond, a special connection that transcended this place.

Obviously, Nina doesn’t feel the same connections to our pack that I do. We were never friends. We were never bound by anything.

Nina, like Veronica, only cares about moving herself up the ladder of power and influence, to hell with anyone who might come in their way.

I’m too weak to fight back. The best I can do is shuffle back and forth a little.

“Nina. You don’t have to do this,” I tell her. “I’m not a threat to you…” I don’t have any aspirations for power here. I only want to escape, to go back to my pack and be as near Samuel as I physically can be.

He might be tied to my sister now. Maybe our love would never be given the room it needs to develop beyond yearning from a distance, but even that slow torture would be preferable to this.

“I only want to go home,” I say.

“You think what you want matters?” Nina asks. “Your desires mean nothing compared to the whims that our King has for you. He jumped into that arena for you, Harper. That means more than you seem to understand…”

Weakly I shake my head. “He would have done that for anyone he believed he owned. To him, I’m his property…”

“He’s never done that before. Not with anyone, even the highest-ranking harem members. You saw how he handled Veronica.”

“If he treats me differently, it’s only because he wants something from me…”

“Ah, yes, the location of your child.” Nina shoots me a glare. “Another reason to kill you. The first child should have been birthed at the harem with a harem member. For our King to gift you with that privilege is a rare error from our King that needs to be corrected.”

“I was never pregnant…”

“It doesn’t matter, honestly,” Nina says. “The end result will be the same after this kicks in.”

The way she said, so calculatingly, with not even a hint of warmth in her voice, sends shivers through my veins. To her, I’m not a person, just a thing standing in her way. She’d cast my life aside as quickly and easily as she would clean mud off of her shoe.

Carefully, she aligns the needle with the opening of the IV.

If I don’t do something now, I’m done for. I try to move my arms. Even if all I did was yank out the IV, I would be safe. But I’m just so tired…

I feel like I have a thousand-pound weight on my limbs, holding me down.

“H-help…!” I call, but even getting enough air to shout is exceedingly difficult. “Help!”

“There’s no one coming to save you,” Nina says.

Pressing the needle into the opening, she starts to squeeze the liquid from the needle into the tube.

In horror, I watch as the liquid starts to drip down through the tube.

If I don’t do something, I’m going to die!

Wildly, gathering all of my last reservoir of strength, I reach one hand up to my arm and start to tug at the IV.

Nina sees and before I can save myself, she swats my hand away. It drops down to the bed. I don’t have the strength to lift it a second time.

“Help…!” I try once more.

Nina rolls her eyes. “So troublesome.” Lifting her own hand, she covers my mouth. Now, even if I shout it won’t matter.

The liquid drips down the line and finally into my arm.

The burning begins at once, and my heartbeat immediately kicks up. The monitors blare.

Someone notice! Someone come!

At this point, even the brute of a king would be a welcome sight. He would save me, just like he did in the arena…

I heard he even shifted. I wish I could remember…

My thoughts are getting hazy. It hurts to breathe.

Maybe it would be easier to succumb to the darkness. What has the light ever done for me, but take me from the people I care about and torture me?

If I just close my eyes…

If I succumb…

No. I fight the feeling, forcing my eyelids open. I can’t give up. Things are shitty now, but they can always get better. Samuel’s still out there… If I just hold on…

Where is the King? Shouldn’t he be protecting me?

My heart lurches in my chest. An alarm starts to scream at my bedside.

“Fuck,” Nina curses. “Just fucking die already.”

I hold on…

I can’t die yet…

In my mind, I whisper for the one savior I know in this place.

My torturer. My jailer. My king.

Caleb…

In yet another boring meeting, Caleb sits in a chair at the end of a long table, while his advisors bicker back and forth. He stopped listening long ago. This is a par for the course among them. They’ll argue, trying to sway Caleb’s opinion. In the end, Caleb will do whatever he wants to do anyway.

Things are proceeding as normal, until suddenly…

A sharp chill shivers up Caleb’s spine. Immediately, he’s on alert.

Did someone just say his name?

He glances behind him sharply. No one is there. The rest of the room is empty and undisturbed. There is only him and his advisors sitting at this table.

What could cause this sudden tension within him, then? Why does he feel like he’s under attack?

Returning his gaze to the table, his advisors are still bickering – except Tristan, at Caleb’s right, who watches him now.

“Is something amiss, my King?” Tristan asks. The simple question startles and silences all the others in the room. Everyone now looks at Caleb.

Caleb sees the worry on his advisors faces, and that worry itches at him, making him suspicious.

Are they the ones making him feel this way?

They could be plotting against him. They likely were… Hoping to undermine him so they could swoop in and claim more power.

A cold certainty fills him as his skin continues to feel pin-pricks of discomfort.

Something is actively going on. He only needs to uncover what.

With a narrow gaze, he glares around the room, staring sharply into the eyes of each of his advisors. Many of them look frightened. If they are innocent, why would they need to be afraid?

“Tell me,” Caleb says, hatred and suspicion bringing out the wolf in

his voice. His words are gravelly and low. “Which of you are plotting against me this time?”

Chapter 35

“Si…-sir?” one of the advisors stutters, when Caleb continues to glare at him specifically.

“Is it you?” Caleb demands. “Are you plotting to kill me?”

“No!” the man says at once and lowers his head in reverence. “Of course not, m-my King.”

Caleb doesn’t like how he denied it twice. Too many denials could just as easily be a confession.

“If any one of you is plotting to kill me, I will find out about it,” Caleb threatens. “And when I do, I will tear your limb from limb while you are still alive.”

A few faces pale further.

Only Tristan seems utterly unbothered by Caleb’s outburst. Instead, he watches Caleb curiously.

“You seem agitated, my King,” Tristan says. “Are your headaches returning?”

Caleb does have a headache, yes, but he’s had that since early this morning and only started feeling this nervous tension a few brief minutes ago.

If only Harper were here, he would demand a massage, and some ofthe pressure in his mind and muscles might give way. Unfortunately, she’s still in the hospital. The doctors still haven’t discovered what’s wrong with her, despite Caleb’s threats to end them personally if they don’t fix her.

Thinking of Harper makes that prickling feeling return to his skin, tenfold. He’s on his feet before he even realizes he’s moved.

“Beta,” Caleb says.

Tristan immediately rises.

Caleb heads to the door and exits, with Tristan in his shadow. The other advisors let out a loud breath as soon as his foot is past the threshold. They must feel relief, thinking his ire pulled elsewhere. They have no idea of the danger they are still in.

After he checks on Harper, he will return to delve deeper and find the one who plans on betraying him. That person will then be tortured slowly before being killed.

More pangs of discomfort crawl through Caleb’s insides, forcing his feet to move faster. Before long, he’s running toward the hospital ward, without really understanding why.

When he reaches the ward, doctors and nurses are swarming, rushing toward Harper’s room.

“What’s happening here?” Caleb growls at one of the nurses. She cowers at once.

“The slave from the arena,” the nurse replies nervously. “Her vitals are dropping. No one knows why…”

“She’s dying?!” Caleb blares.

“Yes, my King,” the nurse says. “I’m sorry, I must assist…”

Caleb steps back and lets the nurse go forward.

“My King,” Tristan says, moving toward Caleb’s side. Caleb follows the length of Tristan’s gaze to where a familiar woman is moving like a salmon upstream away from Harper’s room.

“That’s one of my women in the harem,” Caleb says.

“Nina,” Tristan supplies the name. Caleb doesn’t bother remembering them all. Most of the time, for what he needs his harem for, names are not necessary.

“Have I given her permission to train as a nurse?” Caleb asks, already suspecting the answer.

Sometimes, the more curious, more established members of his harem grow bored with sitting around all day. If they ask him, he sometimes gives them permission to train or observe other areas of his capital. So long as they do not embarrass him, he genuinely does not care what they do to pass the time.

“No,” Tristan says.

“Stop her. Bring her to an interrogation room,” Caleb says.

“At once,” Tristan says and starts forward.

When Nina sees him approach, she pales. All the more suspicious, then.

Anger flares up hot and fast inside Caleb. If she had anything to do with this, Caleb would show her no mercy.

Tristan, moving swiftly, snatches Nina by the arm and immediately drags her away.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Nina shouts. Everyone ignores her.

While the doctors work on Harper, Caleb paces outside of the door to her room.

She must survive this. He’s already threatened to end her pack. Surely she will continue to hold on to ensure that does not happen.

At his growing worry, he scoffs at himself, reminding himself that he only cares because he needs her alive to find his child.

He doesn’t care about her beyond that.

After a few, long, agonizing moments, where Caleb wonders if he’s lost his only lead to his child – as well as the most annoying woman he’s ever met – the sirens and blares finally stop, and one of the doctors steps out of the room.

Seeing Caleb, he approaches him at once.

“With the care we’ve been giving her,” the doctor says, “There is no reason for her health to plummet like this, let alone so quickly.” The doctor’s face tightens, grim. “We have cause, I believe, to suspect her recovery is being sabotaged.”

The image of Nina rushing away from the scene flashes through Caleb’s mind. “How?”

“There’s evidence that the IV has been tampered with. We need to run tests to find out what exactly has been injected

“She’s being poisoned,” Caleb finishes, tired of his doctor double-talk.

Caleb is a man of action. He needs clear concise verbiage so that he can move to action.

“That’s a blunt way of putting it, but yes. Though I don’t have concrete proof yet, that is what I suspect.”

“Can you fix her?” Caleb asks.

“We’re making every effort to,” the doctor says. Caleb respects this man, who lowers his head in reverence to Caleb while still being upfront and honest with him. He is not just saying what he thinks Caleb wants to hear, as so many others do. “It would assist us greatly if the source of that poison were to be stopped… And if we knew the specific kind that’s been used…”

“Leave that to me,” Caleb says, voice dropping dangerously low. “You fix her.” He points at Harper’s room.

“Yes, my King.”

Caleb dismisses him and the doctor returns to Harper’s room.

Knowing what he must do, Caleb pulls out his cell phone and texts Tristan.

Where did you take her?

Ten minutes later, Caleb has descended to the interrogation rooms on the level above the dungeons. Personally, he would have preferred to stuff Nina down into the dank and dark pits rather than these sterile, over-lit boxes, but perhaps that part can come later.

Torture can come later.

Right now, what he needs are answers.

Confirmation. Proof.

Then justice.

Tristan stands outside the room in the hallway. With his arms crossed and his eyes closed, he looks more annoyed than usual. Even when we torture her, he generally seems bored.

He opens his eyes as Caleb approaches. “Should I enter with you?”

“Yes,” Caleb says. “When she gives up the name of the poison, alert the doctors.”

When she does. Not if. There is no if.

Caleb already knows what she’s done.

Tristan nods and opens the door. Caleb steps through first.

Nina sits on a metal chair behind a card table. Spotting Caleb, she stands. “Maaa…-my King!”

She’s nervous. Caleb immediately clocks the way her voice trembles and her hands twitch.

Caleb walks across the room to the far wall and waits for Tristan to close the door, locking her in the cage with his monster.

“You are not going to lie to me,” Caleb says.

“Of course, my King,” Nina replies.

“Good.” Caleb turns to look at her. He allows some of his wolf to break free, flashing red over his eyes and extending his canines. His body starts to surge taller. His hands turn to claws.

He’s careful to keep himself from going full-wolf. He wants to be able to talk.

The effect of his beastly wolf never fails to intimidate.

Nina’s eyes are wide with fear now, as she inches backward away from him.

“Tell me,” Caleb growls. “What kind of poison did you inject into Harper?”

Chapter 36

Blinking my eyes open, I’m once again surprised to find myself still alive. In fact, I almost feel… better?

I lift my limbs, surprised to find that I still can, and it’s so much easier than it was when Nina was putting that needle into my IV tube and –

Fear floods through me at the thought, and I jerk upright.

A man at my bedside quickly steps in, guiding me back down onto the mattress. “Easy,” he says. “Don’t hurt yourself further.”

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I recognize the man as the King’s Beta, Tristan. He’s standing at my bedside, frowning down at me as a teacher would a petulant child.

We aren’t alone in the room. An armed guard stands near the door, looking more alert than bored like he’s on the job here. Is he on the job here?

I have no idea the details, but for me to still be alive must mean that some vital things must have happened. Either whatever Nina gave me wasn’t enough to actually kill me, or the doctors were able to intervene in time…

In a rush, I face Tristan and start talking. “Nina put something into my IV. I couldn’t move to stop her, I don’t know what it was, but it -“

“Stop,” Tristan says. “We know all this.

“You… You do?”

Tristan nods. “King Caleb interrogated Nina himself.”

“He did?”

Tristan gives me a flat look. He’s not going to repeat himself, that’s clear.

I try to process the information that I have. If Caleb interrogated her… If he learned the truth…

Then…

“Where is Nina?” I ask.

“Which part?” Tristan asks to clarify.

He doesn’t need to say more than that for me to know that Nina is dead and that she likely faced torture.

Even though she was actively trying to murder me, I take no pleasure in her passing or the brutal nature of it. She might have hated me, but to me, she was from our pack. However misguided this place had made her, she deserved better than to be slain in such a way.

This place continues to be a nightmare when brutal murder stands in the place of justice around here.

“You don’t need to worry about her anymore,” Tristan says. “You only need to concentrate on restoring your health. If not for your own sake, then for that of the King.”

This time the flat look we exchanged is from me to him.

“Yes, I’m sure the King wants me healthy again before he throws me back into the coliseum.”

“You aren’t going back to that place,” Tristan says. “At least not now. You have other priorities.”

Priorities? “What are you talking about?”

“Feel better,” Tristan says. “Then our King will show you.”

I’m not thrilled about being left in the dark on this. For every danger that passes, another seems to be waiting in the wings. Caleb might have eliminated Veronica and Nina, but he remains the greatest threat against me.

Tristan doesn’t wait around for me to probe further. He simply ups and leaves me alone in my hospital bed.

The guard stays, however – watchful. I don’t ask him questions though, knowing he likely has as many answers as I do. Zero.

Instead, I focus on my health. For the next few days, my strength gradually returns to me, and after a full week, I feel well enough to walk around. Though I have no visitors other than the doctors and nurses and the guard, I’m not terribly lonely.

The nurses make small talk when they check on me, which is enough.

This place has taught me that I’d rather be alone than faced with the violent treachery everyone here seems to feel for everyone else.

I’m not part of this wheel of power plays, nor do I want to be. I just want to survive long enough to be allowed to go home.

Then on the eighth day of no visitors, Caleb walks into my room. I’m standing and thankfully dressed. Yesterday, I requested more than my simple hospital gown, which opened in the back. One of the more generous nurses supplied me with a set of scrubs.

Caleb looks now at the loose teal blue top and bottom covering me and frowns. That frown remains as he looks up to my eyes.

After having spent so much time away from the man, I forgot what it’s like to be in his presence. He’s a strong man in muscle bulk and stature, but even beyond that, his presence fills a room so completely that it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else.

And gods, he is handsome.

His eyes are wild, almost feral, dangerous. His features could have been chiseled out of hard rock. His shoulders are wide. His chest is ripped with muscle that bulges even under his carefully tailored clothes.

“I’ve been told you are well enough to walk now,” he says.

“I am,” I say and wobble around a bit to show him. I’m not completely healed yet, but I’m well on my way. I lose my balance sometimes, but if I’m near enough to something, I can walk comfortably, knowing I can catch myself if I fall.

“Good,” Caleb says. “Come with me, then.”

“Leave the hospital?” I ask.

He lifts a brow. “Did you want to stay in this room?”

“No,” I reply.

Without waiting for me, Caleb turns and leaves the room. I hobble along behind him, struggling to keep up.

He makes no accommodations for me, moving at his full pace. Even on my best day, I’d have to scurry to keep up with him. Right now, it seems impossible.

Feeling my stitches pulling, I stop trying to keep up and let myself fall behind.

Glancing behind him, he notices and stops. “Are you trying to escape me?” he growls, displeased.

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at him. “The only thing I’m trying to escape is having to return to that hospital bed.”

At his glare, I continue, “I can walk, but not that fast. I’ll risk pulling out my stitches.”

Caleb glances down at my still-battered body, hidden behind my scrubs, then up to my face. “How fast can you walk?”

To show him, I move ahead, gradually catching up to his side. Once I do, his frown is even deeper, somehow.

“That is not acceptable,” he says.

I shrug. What can I say?

Caleb looks down at me again. Then, without warning, he scoops me up like a sack of potatoes and hoists me over his shoulder. Immediately, he starts walking again.

“K-King Caleb!” I say, embarrassed. One of his hands sits on the back of my thigh, keeping me steady, but the rest of me dangles over his shoulder. I scramble to hold myself up, pressing my arms against his back.

“I don’t have all day,” he grumbles.

Carrying me like this, he takes me past the hall, then down toward the wing that includes his private chambers.

We do not enter the massive door belonging to him, though. Instead, he takes me to one at the end of the hallway. Once it’s open, we enter into a massive wardrobe with wall-to-wall closets, mirrors on every possible surface, and even mannequins wrapped in fine gowns. Golden chandeliers hang down from the ceiling. Plush carpets cover the floor.

Jewelry cabinets are dotted around, their drawers opened revealing sparkling gemstones within.

Caleb lowers me down to my feet, and I turn in circles, unsure where to put my eyes next.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“As King, I am gifted many things to bestow upon my harem. They all find their way to this place. Then, when a harem member has pleased me, I send them here to collect their reward.”

I freeze a moment, realizing just how many times he’s said harem in that sentence.

If everything in this room is for his harem, what am I doing here?

“Pick something,” he says.

“I couldn’t…”

Ignoring me, he continues. “You will need something to wear. Tomorrow night, we will have a party. There, I will officially announce you as part of my harem.”

Chapter 37

Surely, I’ve misheard. But, no, Caleb spoke very clearly, and he wouldn’t say something like that for the hell of it.

For him to announce that to me, he means it. He genuinely intends to make me part of his harem.

“I don’t understand,” I admit. “Before all this, you sent me to the coliseum… now you want me to be part of your harem?”

As a member of the harem, I would still be a prisoner, but it would be a gilded cage filled with silks and fineries. As Veronica has already proven, the other harem members could be dangerous, but even so, it wasn’t like the certainty of facing wild, hungry animals and knowing I was about to die.

“Did you wish to refuse?” Caleb asks. Where brightness sparked in his voice before, now he seemed annoyed. Likely he expected me to be ecstatic by this new outcome. Perhaps, to most, becoming a harem member might even be a great honor.

After all, so many women are sent to him regularly to honor him. Being accepted into the harem is the ultimate goal. Rejection is considered a failure.

But that’s not the kind of life I want for myself. I don’t care how good at sex he is, I have my own aspirations in life than lying on my back with my legs spread open all the time.

Does he not understand that the only thing that would truly please me is my freedom?

He scoffs at my hesitation. “Look around. See the finery with your own eyes. See all that I have to offer you.”

I suppose I don’t have a choice in the matter. If Caleb wants me in his harem, that’s where I’ll be. And I guess anything is better than the coliseum, or the dungeon.

Or death.

Listening to his command, I turn toward the closets and pull them open. Inside are thousands of the most luxurious, expensive, elaborate dresses I have ever seen in my life. Fabrics, silks, satins, and lace in every color. Gemstones, diamonds, glitter. Everything sparkles, I’m not sure where to place my gaze.

Feeling overwhelmed, I stumble back slightly straight into a hard wall of a chest behind me. I didn’t realize Caleb had gotten so close.

“See anything you like?” he asks, his voice a low rumble in my ear.

“There’s so many, I don’t even know where to start,” I admit.

Caleb hums. Then, he places his hands on my hips. As my back is to him, I only really see his fingers as they curl possessively around my hipbone.

“You should start by taking this off.” He tucks his hands under the front of my shirt, then slowly starts lifting it up and up. Raising my arms, I allow him to lift the scrub top up and over my shoulders before he tosses it onto the floor.

In the hospital, I didn’t have need for a bra, so I’m not wearing one now.

Caleb immediately cups his hands over my bare breasts, massaging gently.

My eyelids fluttering, and I lean back further against his chest, supporting myself against his torso while he plucks and teases my nipples.

“Your pants, next,” he says, his voice even lower than before.

I start to reach my hands up to my waist, but he moves quicker, releasing my breasts to grab the waistband of my hands. He starts to lower it. When the pants are at my thighs, he leans back a moment, as if finally realizing I’m also not wearing any panties.

The panties I wore in the coliseum were likely destroyed, and even after being given scrubs, I was never given any replacement underwear.

Caleb turns me around to face him. Then, surprising me, he drops to his knees. I hold onto his shoulders as he continues to tug the pants down. When they are at my ankles, he touches one of my feet, and then the other, for me to lift and step through.

Once the pants are free, Caleb tosses those away. On his knees, he lets his eyes drag up and up my body. I feel the weight of his gaze like a caress over my skin.

His hands follow the path of my gaze, tracing up from my ankles to my knees, then dip between my thighs. His forefinger rubs along my entrance, just as his thumb brushes my clit.

I gasped as I toppled forward, putting more weight on his shoulders.

“Lay down,” he says. “Let me see you.”

Slowly, I try to ease myself down. It goes smoother once he moves his hands to my hips and carries a lot of the weight.

He lowers me down onto one of the plush rugs. My legs spread out on either side of him on his knees.

I expect immediate attention to my pussy, so it surprises me when he inspects my healing wounds first. The heat remains in his eyes even as his expression tightens.

I don’t like that look on his face, the way he seems pulled away from this moment and back to what happened. If I follow him there, then I will never be able to relax fully for what I’m certain is about to happen after this moment.

If Caleb gets angry, he’ll get rough.

Sex is coming either way.

I want him to be gentle and soft so that I can feel pleasure too.

“Perhaps we should start with panties,” I say, trying to drag him back to this moment. “Should I wear lace?”

He glances down at my pussy. I can only imagine what he sees. It must be glistening, wet for him. I can’t help myself, with the promises this position brings. My body reacts on its own.

“You’ll have no need for panties,” Caleb growls. “They’ll only be ruined anyway.”

“Oh?” I can see my plan is working, so I play dumb.

He returns his fingers back to my folds and starts to slide two inside

Squeezing my eyes shut, I throw my head back, enjoying the stretch.

“I will have you ready and wet for me, just like this, at my command, do you understand?” he says. With his free hand, he unbuttons his pants and slides down the zipper. His dick immediately springs free, already rock hard. “Panties will only get in the way of what’s mine.”

He slides his fingers out, then lines himself up with my entrance.

I claw at the plush carpet, bracing myself for the plunge of his dick inside of me. Once he gets to this state, he’s usually like an animal, taking and taking without care of me. It’s sheer luck that I end up enjoying it.

This time, however, strangely, he slides in slowly, as if giving my tired, wounded body time to adjust.

It’s odd enough for me to peek my eyes open just enough to watch him through my eyelashes. His focus is entirely on my face. Is he watching for any signs of discomfort?

Just to test, I wince. He immediately stops.

What the hell?

When I relax my face again, he continues forward. This time he makes it all the way to the hilt.

“You’re going to live on my dick,” he threatens. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, so often, my dick is all you are going to be able to think about.”

Despite his crass words, when he starts to move, he makes gentle rocking motions. He holds up my hips, spreads my thighs, and does all the work.

His eyes stay on my face.

“You are such a slut of my dick already,” Caleb says, the words rumbly and low in his throat. “We should have started like this. Soon, you’ll be so drunk for my cock, you’ll tell me whatever I want just so you can get fucked again.”

His ministrations might be slow and gentle, but they are also

deliberate. It’s bliss-filled torture as he aims and hits my G-spot with every forward motion.

“My slut. My whore,” he growls, all while treating me like someone fragile.

Someone special.

Chapter 38

Caleb brings me straight over the edge of bliss, as he so often, so expertly does. All the while, his words remain crass and ugly, but his motions are gentle and considerate. I only ever feel a limited amount of pain.

He, too, brings himself to completion and then lowers my ass back down to the carpet before collapsing down beside me. Sweat clings delightfully to his forehead. I wish I could see the rest of him, but he’s still wearing all of his clothes.

For a long moment, neither of us says anything. We just sit in silence. Then, as if nothing happened, Caleb pushes himself up to his feet, tucks himself away, and disappears into one of the closest.

He returns with a blue velvet dress with a plunging neckline and a high slit up the leg.

It’s beautiful.

“This one will fit you without many alterations,” he says.

I can’t imagine how he can be so confident, but then… he has spent the past hour exploring every inch of my body. I guess if anyone would know, other than me, it would be him.

He hands the dress on a rack outside of the closet, then returns inside. This time he comes out with a much less formal dress that would come to my mid-thigh and tie in the front like a robe. He brings this one straight to me.

Slowly, I push myself to sit and then gradually, using a nearby chair, come to stand. Caleb hands me the dress and I marvel at the softness of the fabric. Quickly, I wrap it around myself.

It fits perfectly and is comfortable too.

“Wear that for now,” he says.

With the dress decided Caleb starts for the door. “Come with me.” Once he’s there, he stops and turns back to look at me, mischief in his eyes. “Or do you need me to hold you again?”

Heat rushes to my face. I give him an aggressive headshake and hurry toward him.

He smirks as I step past him into the hallway. There, I’m not sure where to go and wait for him.

When he walks past me, I’m surprised to find that he’s walking towards his room. The entire wing is dedicated to the harem. Theoretically, if he meant to show me my own room, he would lead me deeper into the wing and not further out of it.

Unless that’s not what he intends at all.

At the door nearest his own, he stops. “This will be your room.”

My eyes go wide. This room surely is intended for his favorite?

Glancing at my face, he grumbles out, “I know you haven’t given up on your escape attempts. I have no intention of placing you somewhere where I cannot keep a close eye on you.”

Okay. That might be fair.

Even now, I’m checking the windows and doors and thinking of possible escape attempts. Nina’s information set me up for failure. I’ll be smarter next time. I won’t trust anyone but myself.

He opens the door and steps inside. Immediately, I’m overwhelmed by the sheer lavishness of the space. This room puts both my attic space and my previous room in the bowels of the capital to shame. Vaulted ceilings. A four-post bed with a fluttering drape over top. Silky sheets. Beautiful wood furniture.

My eyes go so wide I’m certain they’ll fall right out of my head.

“This room…” It’s beautiful.

Oil paintings cover the walls, depicting beautiful sceneries I’ve never seen before. Fields of purple flowers. Mountains covered in drifting snow. A small woodland cabin with billows of smoke.

Caleb watches my reaction with a bemused reaction.

“I’m glad you approve,” he says. Then he turns toward the door. “Handmaiden!”

At once, a timid-looking young woman appeared at the door.

“This,” Caleb says, “will be your personal assistant. She will help prepare you for your new role.”

The handmaiden bows deeply to the King and then to me. It feels unnerving, to go from being a slave to suddenly having someone treat me like I’m someone important.

I really don’t like it. “What is your name?” I ask her.

Her face crumples in confusion. She looks up at me, then over to Caleb, and back again.

“My lady?”

“Oh, gods, don’t call me that,” I say. “Please call me Harper.”

“I…” The poor woman’s eyes go to Caleb again.

Caleb shrugs. To me, he says, “This is your servant, you may treat her however you wish.”

“Please,” I say once more to the woman. “Call me Harper. I insist.”

“Yes… Harper…” She still sounds nervous about it.

“And your name?” I ask.”

Bethany,” she replies.

“Bethany. A fine name,” I tell her.

Bethany glances up at me, her eyes suddenly alight. Has she… never received a compliment before?

“I have other duties,” Caleb says. His eyes fall onto me, looking me over heatedly. Then, with seeming hesitation, he turns and walks out of the room.

Female voices immediately sound from the hallway.

“Oh, hello, my King…”

“An absolute pleasure to see you, King Caleb…”

“Do you like my new panties, my King?”

Each voice is flirtier than the last. It irritates me, the fakeness of it, but I try to keep those opinions to myself. I don’t know Bethany well enough by far to let my obvious annoyance show on my face.

Caleb, for his part, seems to entirely ignore the women in the hallway. His strong, proud footsteps disappear down the hallway.

As soon as they were gone, the other women appeared in the doorway, peering in at us.

“So… you are the new one…” says one of the women.

“Aren’t you that slave?” says another.

“Must be,” says a third. “They gave her the worst handmaiden in the capital. What’s the deal, Bethany? Last I heard, you were headed for the coliseum for your incompetence.”

Bethany lowers her chin to her chest, ashamed.

It strikes something unpleasant inside of me. These girls… they remind me of Leah. Before I was never in a position to stand up for myself or any of the people around me. Now, however, I have been elevated.

Bethany is my handmaiden. That makes it not just my right, but my duty to defend her.

With that confidence filling me, I take a strong step forward and say, “I’m going to need you to stop talking about my handmaiden that way.”

“Like handmaiden, like a mistress, they say,” says the first woman with a sing-song voice.

“Good point,” says the second. “Didn’t you come from the arena? What was your name again? Harlot?”

That’s rich, coming from someone else in the harem. We are all mistresses to our King, at his whims whenever he wants us. For them to call me out like they are somehow better is hypocrisy at its finest.

“My name is Harper,” I say.

The first woman hums. “Well, don’t get comfortable, Harlot. Our King will see the flaws in you soon enough, and then you’ll be right back where you came from.”

I’m sure she means the arena, but when I hear ‘where you came from, I think of my pack. That’s where I want to be. I never asked for this. Being a member of the harem is no great honor for me.

The second woman smirks. Playing off the words of the first, she says snidely, “That is if Bethany doesn’t kill you first.”

Chapter 39

I look at Bethany, whose chin is down to her chest, her face pale white and from what I can see, completely miserable.

An accusation of murder is a serious one. Perhaps not so much around here, where whippings and poison seem to be par for the course. But back home where I’m from, people generally don’t go around so flippantly with their hatred and murderous intent.

Leah might hate me and might punish me to the extremes sometimes, but I never feared for my life at my homestead. To her and my parents, I remained a valuable servant, despite the shame I brought to the household.

Here, within these walls, I’ve already been nearly killed so many times that I’m starting to lose track. Here, my life doesn’t feel like my own. The King owes my person now, at least my body. My heart, mind, and spirit remain my own.

But it is those three things – my heart, mind, and spirit – that these other harem members find so intimidating. If I act like a wilting flower who can be intimidated by their words and actions, then they’d likely grow bored from pushing me around.

The King would probably grow bored with me as well.

Yet I can’t bring myself to pretend that I am anyone but who I am. This person that I am has many strengths but just as many flaws.

But they all make me, me.

Having already been exposed to the mind games of Veronica and Nina, and the true threat of death and danger in the coliseum, these verbal antics of these jealous harem members fall flat in comparison.

And to accuse Bethany of murder? Perhaps it is true, perhaps not. But if the King thought she would kill me, she wouldn’t be in this room with me right now.

Caleb has gone to great extents to teach me lessons, but he’s gone further to keep me alive.

He wouldn’t put me in the room with a death snare like the girls are suggesting, no matter how much they want it to be true.

“Do the members of the harem not have other business to attend to?” I ask them. Crossing my arms, I come off as anything but kind. They will soon learn that I will not allow them to use me in their games of manipulation or otherwise. “Or is it simply because you three have lost so much favor with the king that he allows you to wander bored like this?”

“Who has lost favor?” snaps one of the women.

The middle woman rolls her eyes. “We all know he didn’t call on you last month.”

“He didn’t call on you either,” roars the first woman.

“Girls,” says the third, trying to act as some kind of median, but no one is listening to her.

Walking to the entryway, I place my hand on the doorknob.

“This is all fascinating. Truly,” I say. That’s a hard lie. I’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than hear these three debate the last time the King showed up to bang them. “But my handmaiden and I have much to attend to before tomorrow night.”

They look at me like they want to say something. Before they can, I slam closed the door.

When I face the room again, Bethany watches me with a wide-eyed expression. She’s still pale, but not as death-white as before. Now, at least, she doesn’t seem like she’s going to faint.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” I say, returning to Bethany’s side.

Closer to the door, I can still hear the three women harping behind it. They are furious with my actions and taking it out on each other. Good, let them bite and tear at each other’s necks.

Honestly, I feel liberated. Maybe in the past, their bullish words and tactics might have led me to retreat into myself. But after facing feral gladiators, hungry lions, and the rage of the King himself, I’m not going to be put off by the attitudes of three jealous harem members.

Away from the door now, at Bethany’s side, I can’t hear them chattering anymore. It’s as good as pretending they are no longer there.

“Do you want to tell me what they were talking about?” I ask.

“No,” Bethany says.

“Is it something I ought to know?” I ask.

Bethany lowers her head again. As I debate whether to continue to probe or to let it go, Bethany speaks for herself. “My last mistress died rather horribly. I had nothing to do with it, but as I was the only one with her at the time, I have caught the blame among the other harem members.”

“How did she die?” I ask.

“She was stung by a bee. Maybe it was my fault, to an extent. I was the one who left wildflowers on the table, and I was the one who opened the window. But I had no idea she was so allergic.” Bethany quietly shakes her head. “They think I’m responsible, but truly, I liked her. She was a woman of no consequence. We kept mostly to ourselves. I’m not sure the King ever visited her…”

Now that does seem like a peaceful existence. The glamours of the palace life, without the expectations. Not that being here at all is a boon. I’d rather be somewhere else entirely. But if I had to be here, I’d rather be unnoticed.

Since my arrival… No, even before.

Since the royal messenger showed up at the door, I’ve had a big target painted on my back. It’s still there, bright and bold as ever.

“I’m sorry that happened to her,” I say. “And to you.”

Bethany looks up at me in bewilderment once more, like she can’t believe I just said that. With the regular type of people around here, I guess I’m not surprised that kindness would be in limited supply.

Glancing away, I suppose I better let Bethany get to the point of what she’s doing here.

“You don’t need to tell me more,” I say, not that there’s more to say. “At least, not about that. Instead, why don’t we focus on our purpose, okay? You were to prepare me for my new duties as a harem member.”

“Right,” Bethany says. Her confused expression doesn’t totally clear, though it does sink back for a little bit, as determination and purpose come forward. “As a harem member, your purpose is mainly two-fold, though there are occasionally other duties delivered at the King’s whim.”

“Of course,” I say. There’s no real telling what those could be, but I imagine more massages. I just hope for no torture or being sent back to the dungeon or pit.

“The first duty that you must always perform,” Bethany says. “You must be ever ready for the King to request you for carnal duties.”

By carnal duties, she undoubtedly means sex.

That’s the duty that I have been anticipating. It’s no secret that the King is virile. And with how slutty everyone dresses, it makes sense things would often lead one way to another.

I’m not the biggest fan of not having a choice in the matter. But, then again, that’s been the same since the moment I arrived.

When the King wants me, he has me. Being a member of the harem or not, that doesn’t seem to matter.

“What’s the second purpose?” I ask.

“The King’s harem is a direct representation of him and his power,” Bethany says. “You must appear compliant to his will at all times. If you show even the slightest reluctance of the King’s commands, particularly in front of others, including his honored guests, then you embarrass the King himself.”

“What happens when someone embarrasses the King?” At this point, I’m almost afraid to ask.

Bethany’s face tightens into a grimace. “They die.”

Chapter 40

By now, I’ve been threatened with death so much, that it shouldn’t still bother me. But I suppose I don’t actually want to die, so that keeps me from being too blasé about it.

I’ve seen with my own eyes enough to know how dangerous this place is. Just because the King hasn’t carried out his threats to kill me does not mean that he never will.

Therefore, Bethany’s words stay with me long after our briefing has concluded and she leaves me to see to dinner.

The longer they sit with me, the more they fester. Fear that I hate exists inside of me and grows and grows.

Standing against any of the king’s commands could lead to my death. Is that why he’s made me one of his harem? I’ve been my own person up until this moment, both unable and unwilling to accommodate him in his request for the location of our non-existent child.

But, no. That can’t be. This leads all around in a circle. If he kills me, whatever secrets he thinks I have will theoretically die with me. So long as he thinks I have secrets, he won’t kill me.

Then why make me part of his harem?

I’m so terribly confused and more worried than I care to admit.

It all comes to a head when King Caleb himself comes through my door without knocking.

As King, he has that right. But it’s annoying as hell and startles the heck out of me.

If he notices my agitation or surprise, he doesn’t say a word about it either. He doesn’t even really look at me. He just saunters across the room like he owns the place – which, I guess, he does.

When he nears the bed, he unbuttons his kingly tunic and lets it slide to the floor. Then, he tears off his undershirt and casts it aside.

Without meaning to, my focus grazes over the walls of muscle in his back, the dip of his spine, the stretch of his shoulders.

I take in everything, right before he flops forward, face first onto my bed.

The bed I haven’t even slept in yet. I guess, by the rules, that belongs to him too.

I have more than a mind to ask him what the hell he wants, but I have no way of doing so without breaking the rules so I keep my mouth shut for now.

Fortunately, I don’t have to wait long.

“Slave,” he says, addressing me, I suppose. “Massage. Now.”

Okay. That’s a command that’s easy enough to follow since I’ve been giving him a massage practically every day, with the exception of when I was in the pit and when I was being poisoned.

Moving away from the wall where I’ve been resting, I walk farther into the room and come to the side of the bed.

Leaning over him, I reach my fingers into his hair. Immediately, he snatches my wrist in a tight grasp.

“Not a scalp massage,” he snaps. “Do you think I took my shirt off for my health? A back massage this time.”

Back massages were much more difficult and needed a lot more leverage. For me to give him the kind of relaxing massage he’s looking for, I need to be over him more. I doubt, if I ask, that he will move closer toward the edge of the bed.

But I can barely press into any muscle from this angle.

If he gets a lukewarm massage, he’s likely to complain about it. Is that an embarrassment?

Tired of my spinning thoughts, I mutter, “Fuck it,” and crawl onto the bed. Swinging one of my thighs on the other side of his, I push up onto my knees and press down in earnest.

He makes a guttural sound, one that I’ve heard before in the throes of passion. This feels pleasurable to him, then. Good. Maybe I can relax him and please him at once. If he’s pleased sexually, he might leave me alone.

The massage continues, and I do my very best, eager to push him over the edge. Yet as hard as I push, as slow as my ministrations, I never receive more than the occasional grunt or groan.

Then, suddenly, Caleb starts to turn, underneath me.

At once, I try to move my leg, but he moves faster. In a flash, he’s on his back with me sitting on his lap. His hands are on my hips, keeping me right where I am.

Under my ass, Caleb’s dick is fully swollen, tenting his pants and bucking at me in earnest.

“Massage my chest now,” Caleb says.

Chest massages are not as common. I’ve never given one before.

But I take what I know and try to apply it here, pressing into any tense muscle I feel, trying to relieve it.

After I’ve touched his pecks, he says, “Lower.”

I start on his abs. I’m there for only a moment or two, when he again commands, “Lower.”

I move down to his stomach.

“Lower,” he growls.

His navel.

His hooded gaze meets mine. I’ve seen this look from him before. There’s a fire burning there, unquenchable. Only a thorough round or three of sex will satisfy him now.

“Lower, slave,” he commands.

I inch down my hips, bringing my ass to his thighs. With his waistband free, I pop open the series of buttons keeping his dick contained. Once I do, it immediately springs free, in all of its impressive, hard length and girth…

“Touch it,” he commands.

At his order, I wrap my hands around his dick. Sensing what he wants next, I start to move. Up and down, slowly at first. When he doesn’t correct me, I grow bolder, adding speed.

“Good,” he rumbles. “Stop and I’ll kill you.”

A pang of fear flashes through me, but at the same time, I want to roll my eyes. He’d kill me over a hand job? After everything else?

Whatever.

Undeterred I continue to move. Eventually, he starts to buck up into my movements. When his thrusts become more erratic, I pick up speed, sensing his end.

Yet as I do so, I grow more and more weary. I’m still exhausted from the poisoning, and then from the other exertions of the day.

That I’m upright at all is a miracle. I feel like I could fall asleep at any moment.

If I can finish off Caleb quickly, he might let me get some rest. Just a few more strokes should do it…

Instead, he sits upright, grabs me by the shoulders, and flips our positions, pushing me down onto the bed.

The minute my head touches the pillow, I’m out like a light.

Caleb freezes as Harper goes slack. What is the meaning of this?

He checks her pulse. She’s alive? Why in the world would she…?

Suddenly, she takes a sharp inhale of breath. Then, slowly, it comes back out of her as a gentle snore.

She’s… asleep?

Whatever Caleb was feeling before worry, trepidation? It’s long gone now. In its place, he feels only rage.

How dare this woman fall asleep while he is about to bring her the ultimate pleasure?!

お金金

SEND GIFT or GCASH: +63.936.139.8714

COMMENT

Subscribe

♡
Prev | Next