The Lycan King’s Defiant Surrogate by Riley Above Story (Chapters 41 to 50)

Chapter 41

Caleb is absolutely furious. He has a mind to wake this wench up just so she can feel the pleasure he was set to bestow upon her. Does she realize how she insults his gifts?

Yet as he reaches forward to shake her, something in her face stills his hand. He is used to seeing her face twisted in pain or fear or lifted in defiance. Never has he seen her look… peaceful.

It shocks him. What does she have to feel peaceful about, when his dick is still rock-hard? He was to give her pleasure, and now she leaves him wanting? He is the King. He wants for nothing!

Yet, even in his fury and rage, he cannot bring himself to startle her into wakefulness.

It’s probably because she almost died. Yes. That is why he is feeling this way. Her body is weak from the poison, and he already laid claim to her once today.

He’d driven her to the edge. Her body simply gave out.

How troublesome. He would have to speak to her handmaiden and make certain she is being fed enough. Being given enough water and care.

She must feel better if he is to torture her the way that he wants to, with his dick and his hands and his mouth. When she is hooked on the feel of him, he will deny her.

He will ask, where is our child? And she will answer.

Finally.

For now, he will leave her to rest. Her peaceful slumber is one of ignorance. The world is cruel all around her while she sleeps. But for now, he will allow it.

He will not always be this generous.

In fact, he is usually not.

He leaves the room before he can reflect on why that might be.

I’m confused when I wake up in the still of my bedroom, alone, with my clothes still on. My last thought was of Caleb turning me onto my back and pressing me down into the mattress.

Then… nothing…

Did I fall asleep?

Checking myself over, I don’t appear to be harmed. No new bruises or marks. I don’t feel as though I’ve been taken in my sleep.

But how can that be?

No way the King just let me lie here undisturbed. Did he even get off?

I sit there on the bed, partially amazed but mostly confused as Bethany comes into the room. She’s carrying a silver tray with what appears to be breakfast on it.

When she sees me awake, she immediately brightens. “Ah, good morning, mistress. King Caleb ordered me not to wake you. I was worried this breakfast might go to waste as your dinner had.”

“King Caleb told you not to wake me?”

“Yes,” Bethany replies. She brings the tray closer, then lowers it onto the edge of the bed. On it are a collection of fruits, as well as some yogurt, and a bit of oatmeal.

“Did he tell you why?” I ask.

“No, I’m afraid not. Would you like some coffee, mistress?”

“Please,” I tell her. As she pours me a mug, I ask, “Did you already eat, Bethany?”

“Yes, mistress. I eat in the early morning hours before I attend to my duties.”

“Well… if you wouldn’t mind. I’d much rather we eat our breakfast together. If that’s alright.”

She nearly drops the mug as she lowers it down onto the small table beside my bed. The table is big enough for two people. It would be the perfect breakfast nook for two friends.

“If that’s what you wish, mistress…”

“It is,” I tell her. “And Bethany. I must insist you call me Harper.”

For the rest of the day, Bethany tends to me. As tonight is the night I am to be presented as a member of Caleb’s harem, I need to look the part. I’m given a vigorous bath, then rubbed down with oils and spritzed perfumes. My skin is glowing, and my hair is conditioned so finely that it feels silky smooth.

Then, abruptly, Bethany insists that I take a nap. “King’s orders,” she says. “He wants you well rested for tonight.”

After the debacle last night, I suppose I can understand why.

“Fine,” I grumble.

Blessedly, I do drift off to sleep rather quickly, and when I wake up again, I feel rested and refreshed.

Perhaps the nap wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

While the beauticians and makeup artists enter my rooms to tend to me, we leave the door to my chambers open to the hallway. Since assistants are fluttering around so quickly, it seems an absolute nuisance to keep that door closed, just to hear it open and shut again and again.

It’s more convenient for the workers, as well, which is mainly why I insist on it, and why I continue to allow it even as the other harem members begin gathering once more in the hallway outside of my room.

I feel like a circus sideshow. Everyone come and look your fill.

The three girls from yesterday are there, still bickering amongst each other, as well as a few others. But it’s the one quiet one who catches my attention. She’s taller than the rest, a red-headed vixen with sharp cat eyeliner and cold blue eyes.

She’s gorgeous and elegant in how she carries herself. With her hair in a tight updo and her gown draping and long, she looks like a film actress out of the silent movie era.

The other girls seem to give her reverence. I wonder if she has become the new favorite in Veronica’s absence.

My own hair, they decide to leave down, in long loose curls, after threading strings of diamonds in and around a few strands. It’s not overly obvious, but does make my hair seem to sparkle under the light.

The blue gown fits like a dream, with a deep V-neck in the front and a high slit up the thigh. The sleeves are cut at the wrist. A long lacy train comes from the back of the dress, all the way down to the floor.

When I look in the mirror, I feel like a princess. I hold my arms out, presenting myself to Bethany.

“You look wonderful,” she says.

“Thank you,” I tell her, then turn toward the door.

The women there look at me with looks of varying levels of disgust and envy.

Only the redhead keeps her expression perfectly calm.

“Let’s go, Bethany,” I say. She is to walk with me to the entryway where I am to be presented. Quickly she falls into step beside me.

At the entrance to my doorway, I speak loudly, “Please stand aside.”

No one moves.

The redhead stares at me. They all do.

Then the redhead smirks. “Don’t we have a party to get to? We better be on our way.”

At once, the other women start to file out, diverting to the redhead’s judgment.

When all of the girls have gone on but the redhead and me, one of the girls stops and looks back.

“Are you coming, Madeline?”

Madeline, the redhead, gestures for me to go first…

This must be some kind of weird power trip, but I really don’t want to waste time trying to figure it out so I start ahead.

Three steps into the hallway, I’m jolted backward and hear a loud tear. Turning, I see Madeline’s foot on my train, which has now ripped cleanly from my dress.

“How clumsy of you,” Madeline says, her eyes sharp. “You caught your dress on a nail. You should really be more careful.”

With that, Madeline steps around me, meets up with the other woman, and continues down the hallway, not once looking back.

“Your train…” Bethany says. She picks up the pieces. “It’s ruined.”

Chapter 42

Bethany and I inspect the remnants of our train.

“Is there anything we can do?” I ask. I’ve been around a sewing machine, but it’s hardly my area of expertise. There isn’t exactly time for it anyway. I’m supposed to be in the entryway in ten minutes.

Bethany stares hard at the lace, then at my dress. “Turn around,” she says. “Uh, please. Mistress.”

“Harper,” I remind her and turn as she directs. She gently brushes my hair off to one side. Reaching up, I assist, holding my hair in a loose bunch to the side.

“Hold this please, Harper,” she says, passing me the lace. “Just for a moment.”

Peeking over my shoulder, I watch as she removes a small sewing kit from her pocket. From the kit, she pulls a needle and thread.

“I’d like to try something,” she says. “It won’t look exactly how it was, but it should hide the tear the train made in the rest of the dress.”

“Go ahead,” I say when I realize she’s waiting for my permission. She holds her hand out for the lacy fabric, which I return. Then, without warning, she rips it more, straight down the middle. “Bethany!”

“Trust me!” she says. At once, she sets to work. With a few loose stitches, she attaches one end of the fabric to the back of my dress, then trails it around to the base of my sleeve, where she attaches the other end to the cuff. She does the same on the other end.

I can’t quite tell what it looks like without a mirror but from what I can tell, she’s turned my long train into much shorter… wings.

If only they were real wings that I could use to fly away.

Yet even as they are, they’re beautiful.

“Do you like it?” Bethany asks. She nervously worries her bottom lip.

“Like it? I love it. Bethany, you are a fashion genius. We will talk about this more when I get back!”

I’m already late. There’s no time to talk now. She seems to understand.

“Hurry,” she tells me, even as a big smile breaks out on her face. How rare are compliments for this girl? “Go on. Impress them all, Harper.”

“I intend to!” I say. “And thanks to you, I think I can!”

With that, I take off in a run, desperate to catch up with the rest of the harem.

I find them in a single file line at the entrance to the hall, slowly being introduced one by one. As Madeline is at the end of the line, I can assume that the order is important somehow, to show the hierarchy.

Madeline turns to see me just as she’s about to step through the entryway.

In a flash, rage twists her features. She glares at me in open hate.

“Madeline, of the King’s Harem,” announces the crier from within the Hall.

Madeline has no choice but to move forward, or she risks embarrassing the King. Everyone in the harem knows, that to embarrass the king means death.

Madeline removes all trace of emotion from her face as she faces the Hall and walks past the door.

One of the slaves waiting there turns to me. “Are you Harper? The new woman?”

“Yes,” I say.

The slave signals to the crier.

“Prepare yourself,” the slave says as he gestures for me to step forward. “Everyone in this room is going to try to eat you alive.”

I don’t know what he means by that, but it sounds like a threat.

“Introducing, the newest addition to the King’s Harem. Harper.”

Having no other choice, I lift my head, faking bravery and indifference, and step into the Hall.

I’ve been inside the Hall many, many times, observing Caleb or giving him massages. Yet even so, it’s near unrecognizable now. Fabrics billow down from the ceiling, creating the illusion of winds. Tables and chairs are aligned around the outside wall. Each table is decorated with an abundance of gold and sparkling gemstones.

Yet even the overabundance of the décor is nothing compared to the overwhelming wealth on display of the evening’s guests. Elaborate diamond-crusted gowns, shoes, and canes. Golden hair pins and tie clips. Suits shining and well-tailored. Dresses that could have come in off a runway, unlike any I have ever seen before.

The way the guests carry themselves, too, speaks of decadence and opulence.

Even the King is dressed in a fine black tunic and slacks, with diamonds stitched around the collar and cuffs. Silver threads weave through the expensive-looking shining fabrics giving it a faux metallic appearance.

Compared to the opulence around him, the King, though also clearly dressed in finery, seems the most fashionable. The rest are downright gaudy in comparison.

Sitting up on his throne, he stares at me but makes no move to speak to me.

I haven’t been told, but I assume I am to make my way now to him. As I do, I’m immediately stopped by another guest.

That guest a man with a green tie and emerald tie clip – grasps my hand rather forcefully. I had not offered it, but that doesn’t seem to be a necessity around here, I’m learning quickly.

Foolish, I think to myself without even meaning to. I am the property of the King.

The man doesn’t seem to care about that. He dips his head low and presses a kiss to the back of my hand.

When he stands again, I gasp. The King is behind him. I didn’t even see him move.

“Did someone tell you that you couldn’t touch that which doesn’t belong to you?” Caleb asks, his voice low and deadly.

The man in the green tie pales immediately drops my hand, and turns toward the King.

“King Caleb, I -“

“Save your excuses,” Caleb snaps. “You are a younger Alpha, are you not? In line to take over for your pack?”

The man bows. “Yes, sir.”

“Touch her again, and see what happens,” Caleb says. It’s no idle threat, and with the way everyone moves swiftly away from that man in the green tie, the entire room knows it.

“My apologies, my King.” The man bows again.

Caleb reaches out in a flash and snatches my hand that the man had kissed. With a low growl, he tugs me to follow him, dragging me all the way back toward his throne.

Others look at me. They whisper. A few, I see ogling my body in this dress.

Despite the King’s threats, they are bold.

Though perhaps they have comfort from the fact that they are not touching. The King never said they couldn’t look.

Caleb hops up onto the stage presenting his throne, then pulls me up after him. His eyes are wild as he looks around the room, snarling and glaring at all those who look at me on the way here.

Then he turns to look at me.

And his gaze drops to my mouth.

That’s the only warning I receive before his hands slip around my waist and he yanks me against his hard body. His mouth crashes down over mine, licking and claiming in a deep, messy kiss.

He wants them to see this.

He wants them to know I’m his.

All I can do is hold on.

Chapter 43

When the kiss ends, I feel a little lightheaded, caught up in the whirlwind of King Caleb and his masterful tongue. As I try to catch my breath, Caleb glowers at all the onlookers, as if making sure the message was received.

I am King Caleb’s. No one else is allowed to touch.

I know better than to argue with a king in front of a crowded room, so I keep my mouth shut about it. Though, in my mind, I will always belong to myself.

Slowly, the band begins playing music again, and the guests start talking amongst themselves, going on as if nothing occurred.

Near the door, I watch as a pair of guards escort the man with the green tie out of the room.

Glancing around, I notice that the only people who haven’t continued on are several of the other harem members. Instead, they are glaring at me with hate and envy in their eyes.

Don’t they understand that I had nothing to do with what just occurred? Though perhaps it’s not my actions that upset them, but those of the King. After all, his arm lingers around my waist, not theirs.

Jealousy could drive someone to hate.

Looking back to Caleb, I speak softly, “Perhaps I should return to mingling?” I intonate it like a question, so as not to raise offense by having my own mind.

“No,” Caleb says gruffly. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me more firmly against his side. “Everyone in this room wants to steal you away. I will not give them, nor you, the opportunity to plot against me.”

“I have no intention of -“

“I don’t believe you,” he says, cutting me off.

How can he possibly function at all, being this paranoid? Still, I suppose his distrust of everyone has kept him alive this long. I can’t fault him for that, even if it does seem like it makes his day-to-day life utterly unbearable.

“You flirted with him,” Caleb grumbles at me. “If I see you do so again, it will not be a kiss I give you next.”

Images of torture flash through my mind, all needles and blades, blood and misery. The blood drains from my face.

Caleb notices. “Are you afraid? For yourself or for your collaborator? He will go under my knife. But you? You, I will fuck right here on this throne, in front of everyone. I will make you scream my name and they will see and know without question that you are mine.”

My face goes from pale to blushing so fast, that I feel a bit dizzy.

I’d rather not have sex in front of a room full of people, thank you very much!

“Now,” Caleb says smugly, likely recognizing the change in me. “Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes,” I somehow manage to say, despite my heart being in my throat and pounding so loudly it echoes in my ears.

“No flirting with other men.”

“I understand,” I say.

“Good.” Slowly Caleb lifts one of his hands, the other still on my waist, and lightly traces the metal collar around my throat while humming in satisfaction.

After a few more moments, Caleb lifts me down from the stage, then hops down himself, and we start to walk around. King Caleb and his guests talk as if I’m not even present. If they glance at me, it is only for a fleeting moment or two. Meanwhile, Caleb’s hand stays firmly on my waist.

I’m a decorative ornament more than a person. I guess this is my place now. It’s certainly better than being trapped down in the pit under the arena waiting to die. However, there remains a certain level of danger here.

I must always be careful to not embarrass the king, or I might wish I was facing down those lions again.

A shiver of fear runs down my spine at the memories, and it’s suddenly becoming much harder than before to maintain my smile.

I need a moment to myself, to recollect myself in time to face this once again. But how can I slip away unnoticed?

Only one excuse comes to mind, that might satisfy Caleb.

As he leaves one conversation, moving to head into another, I lightly tap his shoulder and whisper, “I have to use the bathroom.”

He gives me a long, searching look, then starts to remove his hand from my waist. He does so slowly, trailing his fingers lightly over my backside as he lets his hand drop.

“Return quickly,” Caleb growls under his breath. “Lest I think you plotting something.”

“Of course,” I reply. Then, free of his hand, I spin and hurry away.

I’ve been to the Hall many times and therefore know exactly where the bathrooms are in the hallways outside of it. Exiting the bathroom, I turn the corner down the hallway to find the bathrooms and nearly run straight into Madeline and two of her entourage, lesser members of the harem.

They all turn to look at me.

“Well, well, look what has walked right into our lap,” Madeline says coolly. “Here we were, trying to devise a way to get you alone, and all we really had to do was wait.”

I start to take a step backward, but I bump into a third entourage member behind me. This one, I quickly notice, is carrying a knife.

“I’ll scream,” I say. We might not be seen here by the bulk of the party, but if I scream loud enough someone will likely hear and investigate.

“You won’t,” Madeline says. “Unless you want Gwen to cut your throat.” Madeline huffs a quick laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first time, would it, Gwen?”

“Nor the second,” says the girl with the knife – Gwen, presumably.

I swallow down my fear. A murderous woman with a knife is still not as frightening as a pack of lions.

“What do you want?” I ask Madeline, who is clearly the leader of this group.

“You are willing to be reasonable. Good. Disappointing for Gwen, but less clean up.” Madeline tilts her head. “As the newest of the harem, you should be least important. Sure you are a shiny thing that the King is obsessed with for the moment, but he will soon cast you aside as he has all the rest. You need to learn your place.”

“You aren’t special,” Gwen says from behind me.

I turn, placing my back against the wall to keep all of my threats in view in front of me.

“You aren’t even that pretty,” says one of the other women.

“I am the head of the harem, now that Veronica is gone,” Madeline says. “You will listen to my commands, as well as those of all who came before you. That is the way things are done here.”

She wants me to blindly obey every single member of the harem? Like hell. I may be a slave here, but only to the King and those he tells me to obey. I’m not going to run errands for a group of bullies.

Even if one of those bullies has a knife.

However, that does make negotiations slightly more compelling.

“I didn’t choose this,” I say. “The King picked me. He gave me the room beside his. He chooses to shower me with gifts and attention. I’ve done nothing to warrant any of this.”

“So you won’t fall in line?” Madeline asks, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m not your slave,” I tell her.

Her upper lip curls. “If you think we haven’t dealt with girls like you in the past, you are mistaken.” Turning to Gwen, she nods. “Once we tarnish your pretty little face, the King will lose interest. Then you will know what it’s like to be at our mercy.”

Gwen takes a threatening step forward, lifting her knife.

Swallowing thickly, I try hard to remember the Pitmaster’s training. I really wish I still had my blade. As it is, I have nothing to defend myself.

Gwen roars as she slashes forward.

I raise my arms.

Blood splatters over the tiles of the floor.

Chapter 44

The knife cuts a straight line across the backs of my arms, which I raise to protect my face. Blood immediately drips from the wound, but it is not deep. I’m fortunate.

These women really do seem more intent on maiming me than killing me.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” Madeline says, annoyance rising in her voice.

“Sorry, I’m not going to just stand here will you maim me,” I tell her.

“You should. This is your lot. Accept it.”

“No,” I say with defiance.

Madeline scoffs at me and then turns to Gwen. “Do whatever you need to do, Gwen.”

“Gladly,” Gwen replies. Her dark eyes fill with murderous intent and she shoots forward to strike once more, with more force this time.

I raise my arms to block again, but the contact is never made.

Instead, Bethany plows into the side of Gwen, catching her off balance. Together, they tumble into a heap on the floor. The knife slips from Gwen’s hand and skitters across the floor to Madeline’s feet.

“Get off of me,” Gwen says, pushing Bethany away.

Bethany scurries to her feet, then comes to my side. “We should go,” she says, grabbing my hand.

I fully agree.

Allowing Bethany to lead, we start to run in the opposite direction of Madeline and her entourage.

Bethany is likely leading me back toward my room, but to get there, we have to pass by the entrance to the Hall once more.

This would be fine if only a few guards were present. They don’t even pretend to care about anyone other than the King.

Unfortunately, it’s not just guards standing outside the doors to the Hall. Caleb himself is also there.

He spots us the moment we turn the corner, then hurries to intercept. He ignores Bethany but catches me by the shoulders. Releasing Bethany’s hand, I come to a screeching halt. Bethany continues on a few steps before turning around.

“Where do you think you are running off to?” Caleb demands fury sparking in his eyes. “What treachery are you plotting against me now?”

“I’m not “I start to say.

“Lies!” he bellows, shaking me by my shoulders. The movement is forceful, I close my eyes to fight back the seasickness from the sudden jolts.

“I’m not lying!”

“My King, forgive me,” Bethany tries to say.

“Silence!” Caleb shouts at her. Curling into herself, she backs up a step. “Anyone who conspires with this one will face a worse fate!”

“Bethany saved me!” I shout in reply.

That, at least, seems to give him pause in his anger. He stares at me a moment, then sniffs the air. Confusion covers his face as he looks down. Blood from the wound on my arms is dripping down onto the floor. Streaks of it crisscross my arms, trailing down my hands between my fingers.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks. Without waiting for a reply, he grabs one of my arms and holds it up so that he can more clearly see the slashing wound. “Someone attacked you.”

I just barely refrain from rolling my eyes. If he would listen, instead of flying off the handle right away, making his own assumptions, then he would know because I would have told him.

Stubborn, hardheaded Alpha.

“Bethany saved me,” I say again. “She should be rewarded.”

Again, he ignores me. “This is a knife wound. Someone tried to stab you.”

“They were trying to mark her face,” Bethany adds.

Somehow he seems to hear that because the fury returns to his eyes tenfold and his frown deepens critically.

In a growl, his eyes on me, he asks, “Who?”

“I’m bleeding all over the floor,” I say, trying to change the subject. “I should get cleaned up, shouldn’t I? I wouldn’t want anyone else to see me like this.”

Caleb glowers at me, even as Tristan steps away from the other guards to approach us.

“Perhaps we should move this conversation elsewhere,” Tristan suggests. “The guests might mistake this distrust amongst your harem for weakness.”

A low growl escapes the back of Caleb’s throat, but he must see reason. He grips me by the forearm and starts to drag me back toward the direction of our rooms. Bethany and Tristan follow along quietly.

The wing holding all of our rooms is off-limits to the party guests. Several guards are stationed along the way to stop any who would be nosy or stupid enough to try to sneak by. They all stand at attention as Caleb passes by.

We walk past his own chambers to mine, where he throws open the door and drags me inside. Bethany and Tristan enter behind us. Tristan closes the door.

Caleb drags me toward the small two-person table near the foot of my bed, then not-so-gently pushes me down onto the chair. Grabbing my arms, he places them on the table.

To Bethany, he demands, “Clean these wounds at once. If they become infected, you will not live to see another day.”

“Yes, my King,” Bethany says and rushes into the bathroom. She returns with a first aid kit and a few towels.

Caleb paces as Bethany sits on the other chair at my table. She opens the first aid kit and pulls out some disinfectant.

“This will sting,” she tells me before she applies it to my cuts.

I hiss, it is painful, but endure. It could have been so much worse.

And compared to my other wounds, including the ones inside of me from being poisoned, this one might as well be a paper cut.

Caleb growls as he paces. Tristan steps nearer to him.

“We will punish those responsible,” Tristan says, as if in an offer of comfort to the clearly agitated King.

“That someone would even try, unnerves me,” Caleb says. His voice is gruffer than before as if he’s begun to shift in rage. “Perhaps | should cleanse the lot of them.”

“An extreme measure,” Tristan says. “We will do as you command, of course, my King, but I would caution against that much bloodshed at once. Your harem needs to appear strong, even if it’s not.”

Caleb chuffs as he turns back to me. “Tell me who did this.” His eyes are slightly red now. His hands are still shaped like human hands, but his fingers are curled like they might spring claws at any moment.

I have no doubt that if I provide a name, that person will be tracked down and killed at once, simply on my word. He’s so enraged, he won’t even investigate. He’ll simply murder.

Madeline and her entourage should be punished for what they’ve done, but death seems… extreme. After all, they hadn’t intended to kill me.

I really don’t want to be responsible for any more deaths.

So I keep my mouth firmly closed.

“Harper,” Caleb growls. “Answer me.”

He won’t take silence as an answer. I’ll need to give him something, even if that something is a bald-faced lie.

“I didn’t see who it was,” I say.

Bethany, while cleaning my wounds, lifts her gaze to me. I don’t meet her eyes, keeping mine locked firmly on the rampaging King in front of me.

He curls his lips up, showing how his canines are extending.

“You are lying.”

Chapter 45

Bethany continues to clean Harper’s wounds, though her mind is reeling. Why won’t Harper tell the King what he demands? Madeline, Gwen, and the others deserve whatever punishment comes their way, not just for what happened here today, but also for so many other atrocities they’ve committed against fellow harem members and their wait staff.

Bethany’s previous mistress was even the victim of their crimes once. They tied a frail rope around her waist and dangled her off the rafters, laughing about how she looked like a bobber on a fishing line.

They didn’t even ask her anything, or seemingly want anything from her. They just wanted to watch her suffer.

Bethany had been younger then, more timid. She’d been too afraid to intervene.

Not like she was this time, rushing in to save Harper from the knife. Maybe Harper’s kindness had helped embolden her. After all, Harper stood up for her against the bullies. Fair’s fair, Harper deserved that kind of loyalty in return.

Harper is a good person, unlike most of the people in this place. Perhaps that is why she is unwilling to give up Madeline and Gwen. She knows, that with the King’s temper, they will most likely die.

But why give such loyalty to people who don’t deserve it? Especially if it earns her the King’s ire in return?

Yet, after looking at Harper’s face of defiance, I slightly turn to glance at King Caleb’s reaction.

He’s clearly furious, at the start of shifting into his wolf, yet he does not lose control. The opposite seems to be true – he’s slowly returning to his normal human self.

His glare falls onto Bethany, and she holds her breath, frightened.

“Finish cleaning her wounds and then bring her back to the party,” Caleb tells her. Then, turning toward the door, he barks at Tristan. “Stay with them to ensure they follow my commands.”

“Yes, King Caleb,” Tristan says with a small bow.

Without another word, Caleb strides to the door, opens it, and walks through. He slams it closed after him.

Bethany jumps, but neither Tristan nor Harper has any outward reaction.

In the King’s absence, Bethany is even more confused. She has seen King Caleb interact with dozens of harem members over the years. He has never invested himself into their drama before, usually leaving the women to sort it out for themselves – even after bloodshed, or the dangling of Bethany’s previous mistress from the rafters.

Why, suddenly, does he seem to care so much about this one woman?

What could possibly make Harper so special?

It’s not Bethany’s place to question, so she continues her work, now covering the wounds with bandages.

Yet the question does stay on her mind as she does so.

Tristan walks closer to Bethany and me, that familiar bored expression on his face.

“You could just tell him the truth,” Tristan says.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I continue to lie.

Looking at me, Tristan tilts his head slightly to one side. “Why protect the women who did this? If you say their names, King Caleb won’t even question you. Not now, and not after. He will simply eliminate the threat.”

“I imagine that’s how things often happen around here,” I tell him. “But that’s not how things will be with me. I’m not going to have people murdered on a whim.”

“It’s justice,” Tristan says. “They attacked the King’s property with a blade. They deserve to have that same blade driven through them.”

The way he can so casually talk about killing someone makes me feel sick to my stomach.

“You are too soft,” Tristan says.

“Not vindictive enough, is more likely,” I reply. “I’ve seen enough death and what counts for your idea of justice around this place. I certainly won’t contribute to it.”

Some of the boredom ebbs from Tristan’s face, replaced now with a distant curiosity, the kind someone might express as they look at something unusual in an otherwise well-known place.

“You aren’t like anyone else in this kingdom,” Tristan says. “None that I’ve met before, anyway. No wonder you’ve stayed on his mind.”

“I’m not all that strange,” I reply, feeling self-conscious.

“You are,” Bethany agrees, speaking up. As I consider her, I find her giving me the same odd look that Tristan is. “No one here would take the time to learn the name of a slave.”

“You are my handmaiden,” I argue. “We are going to talk every single day. Why would I want to keep you so distant?”

“Typically,” Tristan cuts in, “Everyone here only looks out for themselves.”

“I couldn’t live like that,” I say.

“That’s why you are strange,” Bethany says.

Now, with the two of them ganging up on me, I’m really starting to feel self-conscious. Not enough that I will actually change anything about who I am, but enough that I really want this conversation to move onto something else.

“How are my arms?” I ask Bethany. She’s placing on the final bandage. “I don’t want to keep the King waiting.”

“Almost done,” Bethany says, focusing on her work.

To Tristan, I say, “People will notice the tears on my sleeves and my sudden bandages. Should I change?”

Tristan shakes his head. “It would be more obvious if you changed.”

“We’ll remove your sleeves,” Bethany says. “They’ve gotten all bloody anyway.”

“No one will say a word to you,” Tristan says. “They couldn’t ask even if they thought to. The King has made clear you are not to be approached.”

After fixing my bandages, Bethany removes her sewing kit once more and starts working on my sleeves. She cuts away the bloodied scraps then quickly mends what’s left, to make it seem as if the sleeves had been like this from the start.

“I’ll wait outside,” Tristan says, stepping into the hallway.

When he’s gone, I look at Bethany. “They kept confronting me about who did this. You were there, but they did not ask you once.”

Bethany lightly shakes her head. “I’m a slave. My word means nothing. I could scream Madeline’s name until my throat went hoarse, but no one would believe me. You are the one they will listen to. You have to be the one to tell them, or they will not act.”

“I won’t tell them,” I say.

“Then they won’t act.” Bethany finishes her work and then stands. “You are ready.”

Outside of the room, I reconvene with Tristan and together we walk back to the Hall. He doesn’t speak to me along the way, so I don’t speak to him either.

The guard at the door lets us in, and immediately I start searching for Caleb. Tristan stays at my side as he scours the room, and then begins walking through. I suppose, in this case, Tristan is acting as Caleb’s proxy, keeping away any potential conspirators that I might be plotting with. Or whatever else Caleb’s paranoid mind invented.

“There he is,” Tristan says, spotting Caleb first. He touches my arm, veering me in the right direction.

A few people clear from our path, opening up the line of sight, and I see him, Caleb.

I also see the woman standing very close to him.

The woman whose hand is resting far too comfortably on Caleb’s chest.

Chapter 46

The woman is wearing a too-tight red dress that pushes up her breasts provocatively and curves around her hips and ass like a second-skin, leaving little to the imagination. Her blonde hair is pulled back away from her face but then hangs down her back in loose ringlets.

She’s tracing tiny circles on Caleb’s chest, right over her heart, her long red nails catching on the diamonds encrusted into his tunic.

She seems entirely too familiar with Caleb, and it makes me want to rip her away and remind her of proper courtly decorum.

Immediately, I catch myself. Why do I care at all who flirts with Caleb, or who he allows to touch him? He is a ruthless King with an entire harem of women whose main purpose is to please him in bed. I’m going to feel uncomfortable with a woman touching his chest?

What’s wrong with me?

“Who is that?” I ask Tristan as we make our way over.

“One of the King’s many admirers,” Tristan says. “He’s unmarried. The kingdom’s most desired bachelor.” His cool gaze slides to me. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snap, though with alarm, I realize that’s exactly what my feelings are. How utterly foolish! This man has done nothing but torment me. I shouldn’t feel any kind of claim on him. In fact, I should be relieved that someone else might steal his attention away. Then maybe he’ll leave me in peace.

“Of course,” Tristan says, humor in his voice. “My mistake. How silly of me.”

I ignore him this time, and we continue to approach Caleb.

Coming closer, I realize now that despite how much the woman is leaning into Caleb, attempting to show off her sizeable assets, Caleb seems utterly bored with her. His gaze is not on her at all, but instead looking at his drink, or at his throne, or at a nearby passing guest, or finally, at me.

When he sees me, he immediately steps away from the woman and storms toward me.

“There you are,” he says, voice booming. “What the hell took so long?” As he reaches me, he grabs one of my arms and lifts it, inspecting it this way and that, likely checking Bethany’s work.

“Better to be thorough,” Tristan says. He nods toward the woman who is quickly approaching Caleb’s back. “Would you like me to handle your new lady friend?”

“Who?” Caleb asks. Glancing back, he spots the woman, then says to Tristan. “Yes.”

Tristan immediately steps forward, intercepting the woman before she can return to Caleb’s side.

A small sense of satisfaction rises within me, seeing her put-out expression as Tristan leads her away.

Caleb drops one arm and lifts the other. He gives this one the same careful consideration as he had the first.

“That handmaiden did an acceptable job,” Caleb says. “Good. I will not need to punish her.”

“Do I need to remind you that she saved my life? She is the sole reason that these wounds are not worse,” I say, annoyed on Bethany’s behalf. She shouldn’t be praised for the good she has done for me, not vaguely threatened.”

“If you would tell me who did this to you, I could handle it myself and this would all be a non-issue,” Caleb grumbles. “Yet you insist on being difficult.” He huffs a sharp laugh. “Though nothing about you has been easy. You are the most frustrating woman I have ever encountered.”

“You could let me go…?” I suggest.

He glares at me. “Tell me where my child is, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

He has no intention of letting me go, then.

“There is no child,” I say. “As I keep telling you.”

“You are a liar,” Caleb says. “You’ve proven that, time and time again. Eventually, I will have my answers.”

This isn’t the time or place to have an argument like this so I simply shake my head and let the conversation die.

Caleb slides his arm around my waist, as possessive as before.

“Tristan says that woman wanted to marry you,” I say, then immediately kick myself internally. Why can’t I leave this well enough alone? That woman is gone now, anyway.

… But she might be back. That thought doesn’t sit right with me. Even though I have exactly zero reason to care about any of this.

“Probably,” Caleb says. “Many women always try to woe me at these events, as if I will fall victim to their charms so easily. They only thirst for the power they would have as my Luna.” She huffs a sharp breath. “They insult me with their efforts. They know only my true mate will stand at my side as my Queen.”

I can’t help the strange glance I give Caleb. He doesn’t strike me as particularly romantic, yet here he is, saying not only does he believe in true mates, but he will deny permanent entanglements with anyone who is not his.

He catches me staring. “Does that surprise you?”

“You have so many women in your harem…”

“A harem is not a wife or a mate,” Caleb says.

I suppose that’s true.

“Ah. There is the new head harem member. She’s running late. I expected her speech twenty minutes ago,” Caleb says, drawing my attention back to the stage, where Madeline is struggling to climb up in her tight dress.

As she is Caleb’s harem, no one but him can deign to help her, at least not without express permission, which Caleb doesn’t give. Nor does he move to help her himself.

We just all quietly watch her struggle.

Someone in the crowd snickers. Someone else clears their throat.

When Madeline is finally on the stage and standing once more, she takes a second to correct herself and push back her hair.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” she says, in an effort to gain everyone’s attention, as if they all haven’t already been watching her struggle. “We thank you for attending our party tonight, where we celebrate the newest member among us.”

She speaks cleanly and crisply, with confidence and pride. How long did she have to stand in Veronica’s shadow, waiting patiently for her demise so that Madeline could take the spotlight?

Now that she has it, she seems intent on keeping it.

Whatever. She can burn herself in the light for all I care. Just leave me out of it.

“Harper. Welcome to the harem,” Madeline says, gesturing to me. Everyone begins to politely clap.

I dip my head in acknowledgment and thanks.

Caleb leans closer to my ear. While everyone glances at me, he whispers, “The moment this is over, I’m going to take you back to your room, rip this dress off of you, and fuck you until I make you cry.”

With everyone still looking at me, I can’t react. I try to force the heat back from my cheeks, but it’s no use, I’m definitely blushing.

“Maybe you’d like me to eat you out first,” he continues, voice low and rough in my ear. “I know you like my tongue, and all the things it can do.”

Blessedly, Madeline starts talking again, reclaiming the attention of the room.

Just in time.

Biting my lower lip, I glance back at Caleb. His gaze drops from my mouth to the deep V-cut of my dress. Lifting a hand, he lightly traces the edge of the fabric, just barely brushing my exposed skin.

He hums. “Why wait? A king can leave anytime he wishes, especially if he has business to attend to…”

田

Chapter 47

Caleb drops his hand down to my side and takes my wrist. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t command, simply turns away from me, and starts walking to a side door. I immediately fall into step behind him.

At his whispered promises, my pussy began to feel wet. Now, with the promise of more on the horizon, I’m dripping. My nipples are tight buds and my skin is electric.

I want to be touched, tasted… even claimed.

I have no love for this man, but I know my lot in life here. I am an object of his pleasure. So, I might as well take my own while I’m at it.

The side door leads to a side room with a couch, a table, and a set of chairs.

He’d promised to take me back to my room. Maybe he doesn’t trust himself to walk that far. He’s already hobbling, his hard dick tenting his pants.

He closes the door behind us and locks it.

Facing me once more, he closes the distance between us, grabs either side of the fabric of the deep v-neck cut of my dress, and tears it apart, exposing my bare breasts and my peaked aching nipples.

Whatever annoyance I have about him ruining my dress goes straight out the window as he grabs me by the ass, and yanks me against up and then up. My feet dangle off the ground as he lifts me up and up in an impressive show of strength. When my bare tits are exposed to his face, he leans forward and seals his mouth over one of my nipples.

Sweet relief.

My head falls back, my hair cascading down. He laps at my nipple, then circles around it, nudging relentlessly against the tight bud.

I comb my fingers through his hair, holding on as much as I can.

After a moment, he pops his mouth off one nipple, then kisses his way to the other, where he sucks that one into his mouth and offers it the same attention.

I try to bite back my moans, not wanting the others outside to hear. I don’t want Caleb to hear either. The asshole, I never consented to any of this. As good as it feels, he doesn’t deserve to know how much. I’ll keep my mouth clamped shut as long as I can.

It’s not as easy to hide the way my back bows as if begging him to touch more. Or the way my skin trembles as sweat begins to form on the surface of my skin.

His mouth is still on my breast, and he carries me toward the table. After kicking one of the chairs out of the way, he lowers me down. With my back pressed flat against the wood, he leans over me, continuing to devour my nipple.

Without the need to hold me any longer, he lifts one of his hands to my free breast, to flick at my nipple with his thumb.

I press my head back against the table with a thunk.

Lifting his head, he replaces his mouth with his free hand, teasing both of my nipples with his thumbs now.

He watches me. “You are trying my patience, slut,” he growls. “I want to hear your noises.”

“The others…”

They could hear, just as we can hear the band playing from inside this room.

“Let them,” Caleb says. “They will know I please my harem, just as I take my pleasure from them.”

Stubbornly I close my mouth once more.

Caleb narrows his eyes at me as if he sees a challenge here. Then, pushing apart my thighs, he drops to his knees. This puts his face directly in front of my pussy.

He’s not planning to…?

Oh! OH!

He is.

Caleb surges forward, tongue first, and licks all the way from my entrance to my clit. Once there, he seals his mouth over my clit and starts to suck in earnest.

I nearly buck right off the table. His hands grab my hips and roughly hold me down as he laps and sucks and utterly assaults my straining clit.

It feels so good, my mind is blank to all but yes and more, please more.

With my last working brain cell, I stubbornly keep my mouth shut.

Caleb growls, and the vibrations bring me even more pleasure.

Then, without warning, he slips a finger inside of me. Then two, pumping in and out, mimicking the speed he usually fucks me with.

It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

It feels so good, but it’s not his dick.

Hells have mercy, I want him to fuck me.

Even with my mouth clamped shut, I can’t hide my noises anymore.

“Mmm…Mmm!”

“You taste so sweet,” he says, licking around his fingers at the entrance to my pussy. “I’ve been merciful long enough.”

This is merciful?

At once he pulls his fingers out of me and stands. In a flash of flying fabric, he disrobes until he’s totally naked.

My dress is in tatters but even so, the disparity of him naked while even the slightest parts of me are clothed sends fresh dampness between my thighs.

Scenting the air, he growls slightly.

His dick is rock-hard, straining. Taking it in hand, he lines himself up with my entrance and then pushes his way inside.

He finds no resistance as he slips in all the way to the hilt.

My body rejoices, finally filled once more.

“Would they could see you like this…” Caleb growls. He places his hand at the base of my throat, his thumb brushing alongside my silver collar. “They want to. Every man in there wanted the right to fuck you. But none will ever be able to. Do you know why?”

I’m yours. I bite myself back from saying it, whimpering instead.

He grins as if he still heard the words from my lips. “That’s right. You are my whore. This wet hole is for my dick alone. Now, I gifted you with pleasure. Why don’t you be a good little slut and tell your King how much you like it when he fucks you?”

“Mmm…”

“Use your words, slut. Or I won’t let you cum all night.”

I squeeze my eyes shut now too, the image of his hot nakedness between my thighs making me too horny for cognitive thoughts.

I’m quickly losing my willpower.

“You need more convincing?” he asks.

Slowly, he starts to pull himself out. Then, in a rush, he forcibly shoves himself back inside of me. Grabbing my hips, he keeps me steady, even moving me back and forth to meet his thrusts.

I feel like a sex toy, bobbing back and forth on his dick. But unlike a sex toy, pleasure is also filling me.

At the force of his thrusts, my breasts bounce up and down. His eyes stay fixed upon them. He licks his lips and my nipples harden.

Then, mercilessly, he changes the angle of his hips, and bucks back into me, more upward this time.

His dick drags across my g-spot.

I arch off the table.

My mouth falls open.

“Ah-Ah! Ah!”

“That’s it, slut.” Caleb growls, his voice so low and sexy, it eggs me on even more. “Let the whole capital know how well I’m fucking you. Let them wish they were me, plowing into you – fucking owning you.”

“Ah… Yes… Please… Ah!”

“Say my name, whore. Say my fucking name.”

Again and again, he pistons his hips, driving his hard dick inside of me with unrelenting force.

“Caleb…”

“Louder.”

“Caleb…!”

“Louder.”

“Caleb!”

“Again,” he growls, pushing impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

“Ah! Caleb! Yes! Caleb, please!!”

He doesn’t give up, again and again, until I finally scream at the top of my lungs.

“Caleb!!!”

My pussy tightens as I topple over the edge.

He pulls out at the last moment and comes all over my stomach and chest.

Chapter 48

The days continue on. Caleb constantly commands that I be on hand, ready to give him a massage whenever he demands one, so my routine starts to reflect Caleb’s own. I wake up early, wash and change, and then meet him outside of his door as he leaves his room.

He walks and I follow, him to the Hall. There, I stand near Tristan while Caleb performs his other duties, speaking with his people, his advisors, or even dignitaries from foreign nations.

One such dignitary glances at me in clear disgust. “Need that woman be in the room while we discuss such private political matters?”

Caleb growls, deep and low. “Are you questioning my judgment?”

The dignitary pales. “No, King Caleb, I was simply… uh… making an observation…”

“Then keep your observations to yourself, lest you unintentionally offend me,” Caleb snaps, his eyes flashing red.

The dignitary bows his head slightly. “Many apologies, King Caleb. I meant no offense.”

I have no illusions that Caleb is speaking in defense of me. In truth, I know his anger is as simple as he doesn’t like to be questioned, especially not in his own hall. Really, I should leave the room for some of the things they are discussing.

I don’t understand all of it, not being overly familiar with the southern country the dignitary comes from, but I know enough that I should probably be excluded.

Perhaps Caleb doesn’t consider me a threat. Maybe he’s right. Who would I even tell the information I learned? I have no way of communicating beyond these walls.

Caleb knows that. Everyone does.

At the peak of Caleb’s fury, I glance at Tristan beside me. He seems utterly bored with the entire ordeal.

Caleb losing his patience must be a common occurrence. It always seems to be, when I’m around. I’d thought it would be different with others… Actually, now that I think of it when he is dealing with his people, he usually shows a level of restraint.

Perhaps this dignitary has been on thin ice from the beginning.

“Please remember that I’m here to help negotiate a peace treaty, King Caleb,” the dignitary says. “I mean only to promote peace and solidarity between our two nations.”

Caleb grunts. “What you propose is an arranged marriage. How old is the princess you are trying to pawn off on me this time?”

My heart immediately jumps into my throat. A marriage?

King Caleb truly is the most eligible bachelor, not just in this kingdom but across the continent, it seems.

“She’s seventeen now, King Caleb,” the dignitary says.

“The answer is no,” Caleb says flatly. Seventeen is too young, but it seems like Caleb would have said no regardless. “You try this every year. The answer will always be the same.”

The dignitary sighs. “I must ask that you reconsider…”

Caleb sits upright in his chair. “I gave you my answer. Are you questioning my judgment again?”

“No, King Caleb.” The dignitary takes a step back.

Caleb shoots a frustrated glance at Tristan, who moves in at once.

“You know the drill by now, Sir. How many visits is this?”

“Seven,” the dignitary replies.

My stomach twists uncomfortably. Someone tell me he hasn’t been here trying to pawn off that same girl since she was ten? No wonder Caleb seems so annoyed with him.

“How about a drink,” Tristan says. “That tavern you like so much is open by now. The one with the big-chested -“

“Yes, yes, very good,” the dignitary says, eyeing me. “Thank you.” He beats a hasty retreat, Tristan in his shadow.

“Consort,” Caleb grumbles from the throne.

Startling out of my thoughts, I look at him. “Yes, my King?”

He gestures to his head. “I have a headache. I demand a scalp massage.

“At once, my King,” I say and rush forward. By now, I know the places to stand and take my spot behind him. Leaning forward, I push my fingers through his hair and start to press into his scalp.

He hums contentedly, as his shoulders sag slightly in relaxation.

When I start to feel him drifting, I slowly stop the massage. I know better than to try to put him to sleep. He’s always furious afterward.

“Better?” I ask, carefully pulling my hands back.

“For now,” Caleb says, though I can tell by how clear his voice is that his headache has passed. He doesn’t sound nearly so irritable anymore.

Tristan returns through the door, just as I’m stepping down from the stage to return to my post along the side of the Hall.

“King Caleb,” Tristan says. “Madeline, from your harem, wishes to have a word.”

Immediately, Caleb rubs his forehead again. “Have you told her I’m busy?”

“She insists on waiting until you can speak, even if it takes hours,” Tristan says, giving the King a flat look that says he’s already tried to talk Madeline out of this conversation.

Madeline, I know, can be headstrong.

With another, lengthy sigh, Caleb says, “Show her in.”

Tristan returns to the door and comes back with Madeline in tow. As Tristan walks to stand beside them, Madeline approaches the throne, then deeply curtseys before it.

“My King,” she says.

“Consort,” he replies, not even trying to hide his obvious annoyance. “Why do you bother me?”

“This humble servant merely wishes to convey a request, my King…”

Caleb waits. Madeline waits longer.

“Out with it,” Caleb snaps.

“Since the arrival of your newest consort, my King, you have denied the other women of the harem their visitation with you. The women grow lonely, missing your warmth in their beds, as well as your… virility.”

Caleb smirks at the compliment. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

The harem should be pleased that I’ve occupied all of the King’s time. That could give them their own peace of mind and freedom to do whatever they want. They don’t have to sit around waiting for him all the time anymore.

Madeline obviously doesn’t see it that way. “Perhaps tonight, if my King could choose a different woman to lay with.”

Caleb hums, as if considering it. For reasons I don’t want to think about too hard, my heart starts to hurt, like it’s suddenly caught in a vice made of thorny vines.

“Is it my dick you miss, consort, or is it my favor?” Caleb replies, his eyes narrowing.

Madeline looks up at him in surprise. “It’s your passion, my King! Nothing else, I assure you.”

“Oh?” Caleb pushes up from his throne, standing now, adding several inches to the already high height he was towering over Madeline. “Do not believe yourself so clever. I’ve seen the glares you and the others of your ilk have sent Harper’s way.”

“I meant no harm…”

“When I discover who slashed that mark onto her arm, I will make them suffer,” Caleb says. He hops down from the stage, then reaching down, grabs Madeline roughly by the chip, forcing her to look at him. “Pray that it’s not you who lands in the way of my ire.”

Then, he roughly shoves her away. Off-balance, she falls onto her backside.

As Caleb turns away, Tristan moves in at once, ushering Madeline back to the door. She goes willingly, but not before shooting me a cold glare.

That night, when I returned to my room, there was a sharp knife stabbed down into my pillow.

I know what this is, though I have no way of stopping it.

A warning.

Chapter 49

Before I can even think to hide the knife or have any reaction other than, oh, shit, Caleb walks through the door of my bedroom. He doesn’t even knock, simply opens the door and saunters right in.

When he sees the knife, he abruptly halts straight in his tracks. “What the hell is that?”

“I’m not sure…”

Caleb storms farther into the room, coming to a stop right beside my bed and the offending pillow.

“Was this here when you arrived?” he asks.

“…”

Grabbing the knife he pries it from the pillow and inspects it. “This is a steak knife from the kitchen. Anyone could have access to these.” He shakes the knife in my direction. “Who did this?”

“I don’t know.”

He growls in frustration. “Again, you lie to me!”

“I’m not lying this time,” I say in a flash, then, realizing my error, snap my mouth closed.

His eyes narrowing, he storms closer to me. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“You said that you are not lying this time. That means you’ve lied in the past.”

“No,” I say at once.

“Where is my child?!” he bellows roaring straight into my face.

I don’t want to cower, but he is intimidating, especially with his eyes flashing red as they are. I don’t have a wolf. Compared to him, I’m as fragile as a fallen tree branch. One wrong step and he could crack me right in half.

Still, even with the tremor of fear shooting through me, I force myself to remain at my fully height, hold his gaze, and reply, “There was never any child.”

Caleb growls louder. “And this?” He holds up the knife. “Who did this?”

“I don’t know,” I insist.

“Why are you protecting them? They mean to kill you.”

“I’m not protecting anyone,” I say, careful to not add ‘this time.’

Caleb throws the knife at the wall with such force that it lodges there. “Is it Madeline?”

“I don’t know…”

Grabbing me by the shoulders, he drags me toward him. His hands are clenched tightly, his fingers biting into my skin.

“Tell me,” he says once more, his eyes flashing dangerously. Yet, beneath the roar of anger, I see the rising heat of passion.

“I don’t -” I start to say, but I’m immediately cut off when he yanks me into his arms and covers his mouth with mine.

His kiss has teeth and leaves me gasping. Roughly, he holds me up against him, carries me to bed, and then throws me down onto it.

I can’t tell from his gaze whether he means to kill me or devour me. Sometimes I think he feels both.

Damn, this infuriating damned woman!

Time after time, she denies him the answers he seeks. First by refusing to share the location of their child. And now, by not telling him who is the one threatening her life.

It could be Madeline, but it could just as easily be any of the others. He needs answers to purge the betrayal from his harem. Why does she deny him the means to do so?

Why is she always so damned defiant?

Why can he not seem to break her spirit?

Bending down, Caleb grabs her dress and rips it clean off of her body. He’s deeply annoyed to see that she is wearing a bra and panties underneath. They only add to his rage.

“Get those off,” he growls, his voice rough from the wolf he’s barely holding back.

At once, Harper reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, finally revealing her delectable tits to his hungry eyes. She moves slower with her panties – too slow. Caleb grabs them and rips them off.

“Hey!” she objects.

He growls louder, silencing her.

She denies him in every other way. He will not be denied this.

Quickly, with a practiced ease, he sheds his own clothes until he is down to nothing. His cock is already hard, aching for this insufferable woman, yet it still swells as she looks down at it, her own hunger sparking in her eyes.

She likely has no idea she looks as she does, with how often she tries to object to his claiming her. Doesn’t she understand that he can see the lust in her eyes, as well as smell the desire building between her thighs?

He sniffs now, scenting it. So sweet. He half wants to taste it, but tonight is not the night for rewards. She will be punished for her lies, for her denying him.

For her… being threatened.

Under his raging lust, confusion wavers in the back of his mind. Why does he care about her life being threatened? This is how the harem determines its hierarchy. It’s always been this way before, and he’s never given a shit.

Let them all murder each other, for all he cares. He can always get more women to fuck.

But this time…

Damn it to the hell, this woman confounds him.

Pushing those thoughts away, he roughly grabs her by the ankles and drags her toward him, so that her ass is on the edge of the bed, with her legs up over his chest.

Lining himself up, he wastes no time grabbing her hips and plunging deep inside of her.

She claws at the blankets as her eyes squeeze shut. He should have gone slower, perhaps, but he could tell from her scent that she was ready.

Still, he doesn’t move until her eyes open. They’re so filled with desire, they egg him onward until he is bucking wildly into her tight wet hot pussy.

“Take it,” he growls, delving deeper. “Fucking take it.”

She moans and thrashes, her flawless skin damp with sweat.

She’s so fucking gorgeous like this, spread out, begging for him, taking his dick so good.

“Mine,” he growls, possessive over her like this in a way he doesn’t bother trying to understand.

No one will ever see her like this again. Not for the rest of her life.

Only him.

The consort orgasms four times before finally passing out on his dick. Caleb pulls out of her just as he comes, unwilling to gift her his seed.

His seed is meant only for his true mate.

As she rests there quietly, and he comes down from his high, he watches her with curious fascination.

What is it about this woman that affects him so strangely?

Even now he feels at peace, as he readjusts her on the bed, bringing her head to the pillow. Then he lowers himself down beside her.

She’s covered in his scent, which pleases him. No males will try to steal her away tonight.

That thought again startles him. He doesn’t care!

It must be the sex that’s addling his mind. After all, she is quite gifted in bed, offering herself up to him so beautifully. He loves watching her tits bounce, and the way her mouth falls slack when he hits the right spot inside of her.

Mostly, he enjoys making her scream his name, over and over again until she’s hoarse. Let the whole kingdom know where he takes his pleasure, he could care less.

Yet… even without the sex…

Even in the Hall, when she is simply near…….

Even now, when the sex is done and supposedly he should return to his own chambers.

He is at peace. Because of her.

As he drifts off to sleep at her side, the question remains…

Why?

Chapter 50

Another day, another banquet, this time for lunch. I’m starting to realize that the noble elites require Caleb’s time as much as his people’s problems do, likely to make themselves feel important. Half an hour into this banquet, and I’m still unsure what the purpose even is.

When I ask Tristan, he gives me the flat, bored look I’m coming to expect and says, “It’s some nobleman’s birthday. Our King tries to play nice these days. He’s killed too many nobles in the past. It’s been tiresome trying to replace them.”

An answer like that, which includes such blatant murder, shouldn’t be said so lightly. But, as I’ve been learning, there is nothing soft about this place. Only the strong survive. The rest are walked over so much they suffocate.

Thank the gods I at least have Bethany in my theoretical corner.

“There,” Tristan says, nodding his head.

I follow where he’s indicating and see a man wearing a gray sash from shoulder to shoulder. Otherwise, he’s mostly average. Average height and weight and build, with brown hair in a fashion that many other men have.

“That is the man of the hour. Lord Larkin. A dreadful bore,” Tristan says. “But he’s been pushing for this banquet. No doubt he intends to use the occasion to ask a favor of our King.”

“Does King Caleb know that?” I ask.

“Of course,” Tristan says. “He likely suspects many others with come to him for favors tonight as well. He’s not usually wrong in these things.”

“How tiresome,” I say. It must be exhausting having so many people wanting things from you all the time. Then again, he is the King. It’s his job to oversee all of his people’s needs.

“That’s why you are here,” Tristan says. “I anticipate many headaches tonight.”

“I’ll do my best to give him relief.”

“See that you do. If you’ll excuse me.” While talking to me, Tristan sees something off behind me and quickly heads to resolve it.

I’m only standing alone before Caleb swoops in to stand beside me. “There you are, consort.”

“Looking for me, my King?” I ask, teasing him lightly.

He seems in a less murderous mood than usual, which makes me feel bold.

I don’t know, after the rough- and frankly, mind-blowing – sex last night, when I woke up with him beside me this morning, sleeping and peaceful, my heart shifted, ever so slightly.

Yes, he is capable of many terrible things. But… I’m starting to see a side of him that is more… human. Not soft, just more vulnerable, in a way. He’s still a sharp blade, but maybe the handle isn’t as thorny as I thought.

Whatever happened to me, whatever I saw in him, it made it easier to be in his presence. In fact, as little sense as it makes to me, I sometimes look forward to it. It’s all very strange. Maybe my brain is just trying to make the most of a bad situation.

“I was looking for you,” Caleb replies, taking me seriously and not catching the teasing.

He might not be receptive to teasing. I’ll have to progress with caution.

“I need you to help shield me from these asinine conversations,” Caleb says, with annoyance clipping his words.

Just as I open my mouth to reply, Lord Larkin rushes over, “Oh, King Caleb! If I may have a moment!”

Caleb immediately glowers.

Turning to Lord Larkin, I speak up at once, “Pray, forgive me, Lord Larkin, but I’ve just been promised the King’s ear. You don’t mind if I go first, do you? There’s plenty of banquet left for you to go next.”

Lord Larkin frowns as he glances me over. I’m clearly only a member of the harem, I’m not sure how I rank compared to a Lord. But I do kind of remember seeing him at the event where I was introduced. If he was there, he undoubtedly heard what went on after.

Yes, he must be thinking of that, because as his cheeks turn red, he stammers something, and then scurries away.

Glancing at Caleb, I risk teasing him again. “You owe me one.”

“I owe you nothing, wench,” he grumbles, yet even as he says it, he threatens an arm around my waist and yanks me closer to his side.

“You were promised the King’s ear, were you?” He looks at me with mischief in his eyes. “What could you wish to ask of your king?”

“When do we actually plan to eat at this lunch banquet?” I ask. Forty-five minutes in now, and I haven’t seen even one sandwich.

Caleb scoffs at me. “Did I not feed you well enough at breakfast?”

What could he expect? Rigorous near-nightly sex makes a person hungry. I wasn’t going to say that to him, though, because I don’t want him to know how much I enjoy it. I’m sure my honest feelings would slip onto my face if I even tried to start.

Caleb looks over to an attendant and nods.

Immediately, the attendant disappears. A minute later, tables covered in food are wheeled into the Hall.

“There,” Caleb says. “Satisfied?”

“Yes,” I say at once.

He grabs my ass, then lets me go. “Be quick, lest that troublesome Lord bothers me while you’re gone.”

Nodding, I take off in the direction of the table.

I’m nearly there when one of the harem bumps into me.

“Oops!” she says as she spills her red wine all over the front of my dress.

What the hell!

There’s no way that was an accident. She didn’t hit me hard enough for any of this to be real.

I openly glare at her.

She shrugs. “You should really get that cleaned up. Red wine stains, you know. If only you weren’t so clumsy.”

As much as I want to reprimand this woman, I can feel the curious eyes of the partygoers zeroing in on my direction.

I have to be the bigger person, or I risk making a scene. And if I make a scene, Caleb might storm over here and lob this woman’s head off, without asking any questions.

So, for now, I turn and walk out of the Hall and back to my rooms.

Yet, as soon as I walk in, I find Bethany sitting in the middle of the floor, crying.

“What is it?” I ask, rushing to her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine but the dresses…” Bethany says. “They came in a mob after you’d gone. I tried to stop them but they took everything. They took your whole wardrobe. Your dresses… everything’s gone!”

“Who did?” I ask. “Who came?”

Bethany lifts her crying red eyes up to me, and I know without her even having to say so that the ones who are responsible are Madeline, Gwen, and their entourage. Likely the one who spilled wine on me was just waiting for the signal that the deed was done.

I can only imagine them all in the Hall, waiting in gleeful anticipation for me to return in shame, wine spilled on my dress.

Standing, I move to the closet and peer within.

As Bethany said, everything is gone. Some hangers are on the floor. Only scraps of fabric and a bit of lace that must have torn off in the tussle are on the ground.

The King is expecting me, but I can’t return with a stained dress. It could risk embarrassing him. He’s been in such a good mood with me today.

I really don’t want him angry again.

“What do we do?” Bethany asks, miserable.

I don’t have any idea.

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