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#Chapter 3 - Go to Palace

Ruby

I look up at the King and his henchmen. The King shakes his head and gestures for his henchman to rise, then hands Tamara to him. I begin to cry out in protest, but the King simply raises a finger to me and I am silent.

“Your sister will be taken care of,” he says softly, then walks toward me. I scamper back further into the corner and raise my hands in defense, prepared for the King to beat me.

But he doesn’t.

He crouches in front of me and gently takes my hands in his, pressing my fingers to his lips and looking into my eyes. I can feel myself tingle at his touch, but I am unsure as to whether the sensation is fear or excitement -- perhaps both.

Although I would let him kiss my hands forever, there is still a part of me that fears him, so I pull my hands away. The King drops his gaze, looking defeated.

“Your sister,” he says after a pause. “She smells like a human.”

“She’s a hybrid, isn’t she?” he asks. I nod nervously. His scent, so close to me now, fills my senses and stirs something in me that I have never experienced before.

“Yes,” I say. “Both of us are. But my sister…”

He could have killed my sister and I, but he didn’t.

Why?

For the first time all night, the King takes off his dark glasses to reveal bright, glowing orange eyes that peer straight into my soul. I am captivated by his gaze, and then suddenly I am speaking without realizing exactly what I’m saying.

“My sister is more human than wolf,” I blurt out, surprised at my own candidness, but I am unable to stop myself from telling the truth. “Her abilities are extremely limited, and she has no chance of having a wolf.”

The King sighs and looks over his shoulder at his henchman and Tamara. The henchman looks down at my sister briefly, then back to the King and nods silently.

I can feel my heart rise up into my throat, and I attempt to stand, but the pain in my leg is too great and I fall back down with a thud and a whimper.

“Please,” I manage to get out as the King stands in front of me. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.” I reach forward with what little strength I have left and grab the King’s pant leg. He looks at me with an expression that I cannot place my finger on. Pity? Disgust?

No.

His expression is one of pain.

I drop my grip on his pant leg as another jolt of pain shoots up through my body.

“It is all my fault for offending you,” I murmur as my head falls back against the wall again. “I shouldn’t have ran. I know that now, and I will never run again. But please… please, I beg you not to hurt her or banish her. She’s too young… Punish me instead, if you must.”

Hot tears roll down my cheeks as the King continues to stand and stare at me with those piercing orange eyes.

He shifts his gaze to the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists.

After several eternal moments, he bends down to me again. I have no strength left in my body to raise my hands in defense, so I accept my fate. I expose my neck for him to bite, so that he may kill me.

But he doesn’t.

He wraps his coat around me, and scoops me up into his strong arms before standing again. He holds me tightly, and as he holds me, I feel my pain subside. I look down to see the wound on my leg closing up.

And there is another sensation…

My panties are wet.

The King presses his lips to my ear and speaks. “I will always find you,” he whispers. A statement that is both comforting and terrifying.

As it turns out, the Lycan King can teleport, which explains how he found my exact location so quickly.

The henchman steps on the gas and peels out of the woods and back toward the castle as the King continues to hold me tightly in his arms. His hands slip into the coat and under my shirt to hold me closer, and his touch is so cold against my skin that it sends shivers down my body. I can feel my body throb with excitement at his touch.

His scent fills me with a feeling of euphoria that lulls me into a half-asleep state. My eyelids flutter and I half smile up at the King, then look toward my sister and reach my hand out to take hers.

“Don’t worry,” the King whispers in my ear as he emerges from the car with me still in his arms. “Your sister will be taken care of.” His hot breath tickles my neck and his hands still gently stroke my waist. His touch excites me despite my weakened state.

Still, I cannot help but wonder if the King’s words are true. All my life, I have been taught that the Lycan King is a cold, calculating monster. How can I trust his words of reassurance? He could easily be lying to make me compliant.

But his body feels good against mine as he carries me into the castle.

He waves away a servant with one hand, easily carrying me in only his other arm as though I weigh nothing, and ascends the grand staircase to the chambers.

When the guards had first taken me here this morning to prepare for the wedding, they had discreetly slipped me in through a back door with a winding staircase that led up to my bridal chamber; no doubt to keep my appearance hidden from the King before our wedding. I hadn’t seen this grand entryway.

The inside of the castle is beautiful. High vaulted ceilings, tall stained glass windows, and ornate chandeliers. The floors are marble and the walls are made of dark gray stone that perfectly replicates all of the tales of castles that I had read in my fairytales growing up.

Now, I am the princess trapped inside the castle with a monster.

If he is a monster.

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