I woke up in my bed, disoriented and confused. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep on the couch while watching a movie. Had the Alpha King carried me to my bed? But why would he do that? I tried to recall the events of the previous night, but my memory was hazy.
I knew the Alpha King had a reputation for being mysterious and unpredictable, but this left me feeling uneasy. As I lay there, my mind raced with questions. Was it an act of kindness or something more sinister?
The bathroom door. He filled the doorway, a chiseled statue caught in the sunrise, all sharp angles and deep shadows. "Casual," they called it. Jeans stretched taut across lethal thighs, muscles rippling beneath the dark denim. A simple black shirt, straining against his chest, a coiled spring of power. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. The silence was a physical thing, heavy and suffocating. His breath hitched—a low, guttural sound that vibrated in the stillness. I didn't look away. Couldn't. The air crackled. Not with words, but with something hotter, more primal. Shame seared my cheeks. My fingers dug into my palms, nails biting into skin, a desperate anchor against the storm raging within me. He wasn't just a king. He was the storm. And I, a tiny, insignificant ship, tossed on its merciless waves.
As I lay there, my mind filled with questions and a growing sense of anxiety. The silence was soon broken by the deep, resonating sound of his chuckle. "Look all you want, little wolf," he said, his voice a low rumble. I felt exposed under his intense gaze, my anxiety building as I fiddled with the sheets. Sensing my discomfort, he took a step forward, the movement sending a ripple of muscle beneath his casual attire. "I just wanted to see if you wanted to get dressed and join Carter and Amelia in the dining room," he explained.
My fingers dug into the sheets, my anxiety warring with my curiosity. The Alpha King noticed my hesitation and continued, "No one will hurt you, I give you my word. You are going with me, and no one will dare say otherwise." His words, spoken with a mix of assurance and command, seemed to calm the storm within me. I took a steadying breath, my eyes briefly closing as I centered myself. When I opened them again, I met his intense gaze. "I would like that," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. As I rose from the bed, a sense of determination filled me. I would face the unknown, guided by the Alpha King himself.
The bathroom door creaked shut behind me, the stale air heavy with the scent of bleach and something faintly floral – a stark contrast to the unexpected sight that greeted me. A neat pile of clothes, impossibly soft, lay on the cool porcelain counter. Black leggings, the fabric yielding to a gentle touch, felt like a second skin. Beside them, a charcoal gray t-shirt, impossibly soft cotton that hinted at expensive quality. And then, the worn canvas of a pair of pristine Converse, their white gleaming almost offensively bright. My fingers traced the embroidered logo on the shoe. Perfect. My size. A giddy laugh escaped, quickly stifled. The joy felt brittle, fragile, as though a single wrong step could shatter it. A shadow fell across the happiness, a prickling unease. This generosity… it felt too calculated. Too perfect. I pictured their faces, the Alpha King's unsettling smile, the others' overly polite nods and sudden helpfulness. It was like watching a carefully choreographed dance, every move precise, every gesture laden with hidden meaning. A whispered thought, barely audible: *Why?* The question hung in the air, thick and heavy, mirroring the suspicion coiling in my gut.
I followed him, the polished steel of the elevator reflecting the predatory gleam in the Alpha King's eyes. His hand, calloused yet strangely gentle, engulfed mine as the doors slid open, a jolt of raw electricity—a searing brand—igniting where our skin met. I didn't understand it, this inexplicable pull, this wildfire blooming in my veins. But I couldn't deny it. The dining hall exploded into a cacophony. A tide of hushed whispers, sharp intakes of breath, coalesced into a venomous murmur. Their eyes, glittering with suspicion and a cruel curiosity, bored into me. *An omega with the King? Bewitched, surely.* Their words, laced with venom, stung worse than any physical blow. The air itself crackled with their animosity, a palpable tension that tasted like ash and fear on my tongue. Then, the King's growl. It wasn't just sound; it was a physical force, a seismic tremor that ripped through the room, silencing the murmuring rabble. Their heads bowed, necks bared in instinctive submission, the scent of fear—sharp, acrid—filling my nostrils. The sudden, suffocating quiet was almost worse than the chaos. My hands trembled as I served myself, the weight of their stares pressing down on me. I found Amelia, her familiar presence a small, fragile island of calm amidst the storm. Beside her, I found a momentary respite, the taste of the food bland and tasteless against the bitterness still clinging to my tongue. But the King's gaze, possessive and intense, remained a constant, burning presence at the edge of my vision.
Alpha King Killian, his eyes like chips of glacial ice, turned to Alpha Jacob. His voice, low and resonant, vibrated through the cavernous hall: "A meeting. tonight. Pack matters. And ground rules." As we moved, a hand, impossibly strong, closed around mine. A primal instinct, a possessive claim. I didn't even register the touch before the icy steel of his grip had sunk in. Inside the elevator, the stale air hung heavy with unspoken tension. Carter's voice, sharp and brittle, cut through it. "When are you telling them, Your Majesty? About the extended stay? The… investigation?" A gasp tore from me, raw and involuntary. The scent of fear, sharp and bitter, choked me. *Stupid, stupid, stupid.* I'd shown weakness. And Killian, a predator, would not forgive weakness. He moved, a coiled viper, and my body screamed its betrayal before my mind could process the threat. I flinched, a pathetic ripple of fear. His growl, a deep rumble that resonated in my bones, was a promise of retribution. "That's *why* we're investigating," he ground out, each word dripping with barely controlled fury. "My mate shouldn't be terrified of me." *My mate?* The word hung in the suffocating silence. His face, a mask of power moments before, was now etched with a stark, almost painful surprise. The icy gaze had softened, clouded with something akin to… confusion. He hadn't meant to say it. Not yet. But the admission hung between us, a raw, bleeding nerve.
Well, the cat was most certainly out of the bag—or should I say, the wolf? As we stepped out of the elevator, Carter's words hung in the air, a fur ball of truth that had been coughed up and spat out for everyone to see. I felt my eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as I turned to him, my mouth forming a perfect 'O' of surprise. "Mate?" I squeaked, my voice echoing down the cavernous hall. "Did he just say… mate?" I knew my cheeks were turning a delightful shade of pink as the reality of the situation sunk in. Killian, the Alpha King himself, had just claimed me as his mate. Me! A lowly omega, now forever tied to the most powerful wolf in the land. It was like something out of a fairy tale—or a nightmare, depending on your perspective. As the initial shock wore off, a wave of panic set in. I had seen the way Killian looked at me, the icy determination in his eyes. I was a possession to him, a claim to be marked and controlled. And now, with this newfound knowledge, I felt like a mouse trapped in a viper's cage. My mind raced with thoughts of escape, but my body remained rooted to the spot, betraying my desire for freedom. Little did I know, I had already fallen into his trap, and there was no going back. The tension in the room could be cut with a butter knife—not a sharp one, mind you, we're not barbarians. I could feel the weight of everyone's stares, their eyes boring into me like I was a particularly interesting exhibit at the museum. "Well," I said, my voice shaking only slightly, "this changes things, doesn't it?" I tried to keep my tone light and playful, but it came out more like a strangled squeak. Carter, always the mischievous one, elbowed me in the ribs and whispered, "You could say you're now the Queen of the Wolves. Rawr!
I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Me, a lowly omega slave, now mated to the Royal Alpha King? It was like something out of a ridiculous dream. I must have hit my head harder than I thought when I fell earlier. That had to be it. Any moment now, I'd wake up and find myself back in my tiny, dirty cell, with no memory of this crazy turn of events. But, as I looked around, I realized this was no dream. The opulent surroundings of the royal chamber were very real, and so was the intense, irritated look on Alpha Killian's face. His growl, directed at Carter, had been enough to make my friend falter, but my unexpected laughter seemed to confuse him. As my giggles subsided, I noticed a flicker of something in the Alpha's eyes. Was it amusement? No, that was ridiculous. Alphas didn't find humor in the same things omegas did. Or did they? I shook my head, trying to clear my muddled thoughts. This whole situation was turning my world upside down, and I wasn't sure if I should be laughing or crying. Maybe I was going crazy after all. The idea of me, a mere omega, being mated to the Royal Alpha King was so outrageous that I couldn't help but find it hilarious. It was like the universe was playing a practical joke on me. But, as I looked at Alpha Killian's stoic face, I realized that this joke was definitely on me. I wondered if the gods were having a good laugh at my expense. Perhaps they found my predicament amusing. Well, at least someone was enjoying this madness!