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Chapter 12 - THE KING’S JEALOUSY

SAVANNAH

I trembled as King Fenrir stormed through the door, his fury demonic, his rage all-consuming.

Instinctively, I shrank away from the Lycan tending to me, curling up in the corner of the bed. I clutched the sheets tightly against my chest, as if they could shield me from his wrath.

"I was just administering medicine, my lord," the Lycan replied, standing up. He left the potion on the nightstand before turning to face Fenrir.

"You could have assigned that task to a maid; I don't want you near her," Fenrir growled, his voice high-pitched and strange, as it was when he was chained.

"I was only trying to help. She was on the brink of death."

"There are many things to discuss about that. Now leave, call the Housekeeper. I want the entire staff on guard in the kitchen," he ordered. The guardian hesitated before heading towards the door.

Lycans were not as submissive to Fenrir as the others, but the hierarchy among them was also obvious—the King was the one who controlled them.

At the entrance, the Lycan glanced back at me, our eyes meeting for a brief, uncertain moment.

"Is there anything else you forgot, Reece?" Fenrir sked, his tone sharp.

"No, my lord," he responded, and finally left, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with the fierce beast who turned towards me and stepped closer to the bed.

His anger seeped through his pores, and I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white.

"My...L-lord, I didn't do it. Please, believe me," I pleaded, lowering my head.

His shadow enveloped me as if it might devour me, and the mattress sank as he sat on the edge.

The cot was too small; no matter how I pressed myself against the wall, his thigh still brushed against my legs.

"So, if you're innocent, why did you run away? Were you seeking refuge, perhaps with another guardian?" His hand shot out, grabbing my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

His steel-gray eyes cut through me like a blade, foretelling danger. His grip loosened and slid down to my neck, his fingers resting there, not yet squeezing. 

"No... I... I... the Housekeeper..." His face was so close, I could almost taste death. Just one squeeze, and I'd be finished.

Words failed me, and I closed my eyes, hating how weak I felt under his intimidation.

"Why?" His breath blew close to my lips; I felt the warmth of his skin near mine as he cornered me against the edge.

"Tell me, Savannah, why are you so afraid of me and not of him? Is he not a Lycan too?"

I blinked in confusion. Was he talking about the guardian Reece?

Comparing them was like pitting the relentless waves of an ocean against the stillness of a forgotten forest. Comparing them was like measuring the fierce strength of a hurricane against the delicate beauty of a blossoming flower.

"Look at me, Savannah," he commanded, his voice softer but still demanding. "If I've treated you well, why do you always expect the worst of me?"

"Y... Your Majesty..."

"I hate when you call me that," he whispered, and I finally lifted my heavy eyelids.

My heart pounded uncontrollably as I found his face mere inches from mine.

Didn't my scars disgust him?

His eyes seemed like storm clouds, dark and tumultuous, with something wild lurking beneath the surface.

"I thought... I thought you wouldn't believe me. You accused me of poisoning you, in the dungeon... And that man told me you ordered for me to be cast out of the pack and taught a lesson."

"What?!" He suddenly roared, the fury in him flaring again. "Don't tell me... don't tell me you believed it. Do you really think I would order someone to violate and beat you? Tell me, Savannah!"

I swallowed hard, biting my lower lip to keep from admitting that, yes, in my desperation, I had believed it.

"They knew about the poisoning... They knew everything, and only you and I were aware... I thought—"

"The person who set the trap knows, too, and it's obvious they're working together!" he interrupted, his tone dangerously low.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to calm himself.

"The whole truth will come out, but I want you to be very clear about something: if I'm going to end your life, I'll do it myself, with my own hands. No one else has the right to touch you."

His words were possessive, reminding me that he held the power over my life—and my death.

The small bed creaked in protest to his enormous weight as he leaned in and completely invaded my personal space. His hand tightened a little more around my neck, his chest brushing against mine, and his sensual lips just a breath away.

His wild, reddish hair fell to his shoulders, damp from the lake, and his entire aura was controlling and somehow... dark and exciting.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it downstairs. How do you think I'd send another man to touch what I couldn't even enjoy? I had to go hunting to burn the poison because the prey I really wanted to devour had just slipped away," he murmured, his voice husky.

A blush crept over me as I remembered our wild encounter, where I nearly gave in to the temptation of this powerful Lycan.

"It was logical that I would distrust you at first; I didn't even eat at the celebration. I had to run back when I felt the effects and chain myself up in the castle."

He explained, and honestly, with so many predatory maidens in the past, he had all his reasons.

"I would never do something like that. I would never give you any poison, Lord, let alone an aphrodisiac," I responded immediately. "Someone set a trap for me."

"I noticed. You made it very clear that you didn't want to have sex with me. You shouted it loud and clear, Savannah," he responded through gritted teeth, and honestly, I didn't know how to respond to that.

He didn't say anything more, but his gaze was fixed on the bruises on my face or perhaps my scars; I wasn't sure, but I felt embarrassed with him examining me so closely.

I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart pounded so loudly I was certain he could hear it.

Finally, he sat up a bit, and I released the air I had held in my lungs, sitting up straighter myself. I didn't understand what he was going to do until he brought his hand to the potion and then I saw it appear in front of my mouth.

"Drink," he commanded.

"Your majesty... Lord, you don't have to do this; I can manage on my own," I said, trying to raise my bandaged hands to take the bowl.

"I didn't see you resisting Reece. Do you want me to call him to give you the medicine?" he asked. 

I didn't need to be very perceptive to immediately refuse that option, with the implied threat.

Cold porcelain touched my lips, and I drank the bitter liquid slowly.

I thought he was going to feed me roughly, like everything else about him, but I was surprised by how focused he was and how delicately he tilted the bowl each time.

Afterwards, he took a handkerchief left on the nightstand and gently wiped away the drops that escaped from the corner of my mouth.

A warmth spread through my chest, and I assumed it was the effect of the medicine. 

'Why are you such a complicated man, my Lord?'

His actions, honestly, I could never understand.

***

I was on my way to the servants' quarters. Not on my own feet, but in the arms of the King Lycan. How had we gotten to this exactly?