“Get up!” his bark pierces the air, his presence casting a menacing shadow over me. I remain frozen, my body trembling uncontrollably as desperate wails tear from my throat. Curling into myself, I draw my knees to my chest, seeking whatever semblance of protection I can muster. I silently pray it doesn’t hurt, just as Beatrice assured me.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, no one is fucking you tonight. I’d rather let a man fuck me than do that,” his words land like a crushing blow, the shock evident on my slackened expression. In a surprising act of gentleness, he crouches down, lifting me effortlessly and draping me over his shoulder. My mind reels in disbelief. Did he really just say that?
He strides toward his bed, and I still brace myself for what is to come next, my heart pounding with a mix of dread and uncertainty. He tosses me onto the mattress, and instinctively, I sit up, drawing my knees close to my chest for a semblance of protection. My gaze locks with his, silently demanding an explanation for his earlier shocking remark. However, as I observe him, I catch his eyes lingering on my exposed thighs, sending a shiver down my spine. Hastily, I reach for the nearby covers, clutching them tightly and wrapping them around my trembling form, using them as a shield against his penetrating emerald-green gaze.
He scowls as he forcefully yanks the covers away, leaving me vulnerable to the biting chill of the night air. I recoil instinctively, huddling into myself once more. Fear grips me tightly, gnawing at my insides as I worry that my attempt to shield myself may have inadvertently altered his intentions regarding our mating.
“Drop your legs and spread them,” he commands, freezing me in place. My heart plummets, fresh tears welling up in my eyes, confusion and fear intertwining within me. I had dared to hope that his earlier words meant he wouldn’t go through with it. Why the sudden change of heart?
“The fucking waters again,” he mutters with exasperation, frustration evident in the furrow of his brow as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just do as I have asked, Amelia, and stop fucking crying.”
“Please,” I plead, my voice choked with emotion, tears streaming down my cheeks unchecked.
Nickolas disregards my pleas, forcefully prying my legs from my chest and spreading my thighs apart despite my desperate attempts to resist. Frantically, I attempt to bring my legs back together to shield myself from his invasive touch, but the steely resolve etched across his face freezes me in place. His clenched fists and the hard set of his jaw convey a silent warning, daring me to defy him further.
A chill runs down my spine as his gaze meets mine, sending a shiver of dread through my body. I shrink back into the mattress, feeling as though I’m sinking into an abyss of despair. The intensity of his stare feels suffocating, every fiber of my being screaming that tonight, he intends to do me harm.
“I’m going to spread your legs, and if you dare try to pull them together again, I will go back on my word and fuck you,” his threat hangs in the air like a dark cloud, sending a chill coursing through my veins. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat feeling like an insurmountable obstacle. I resign myself to his command, letting him do as he wishes.
His hand moves to my thigh, hovering dangerously close to my core. I draw in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of his touch searing my skin. His claws extend; they gently caress my skin, sending sparks of fire dancing across my flesh, a stark contrast to the fear coiling in the pit of my stomach.
I watch him intently, my lips parting in silent disbelief, trying to decipher his intentions. His hands move with a deliberate slowness across my core, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. My core clenches involuntarily, a wave of embarrassment washing over me at the intensity of my reaction to such a seemingly small action.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, I’m consumed by confusion and apprehension. He claimed he wouldn’t mate with me, so why is he toying with me like this? The mixed signals leave me feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty, my mind racing with unanswered questions.
I grimace, a sharp sting slicing through the haze of confusion as I feel a searing pain on my thigh. Lowering my gaze, I discover a jagged cut marring my skin, crimson droplets staining the pristine sheets beneath me. Nickolas pulls his claws to his lip and wipes his hands clean of my blood with a napkin from his pocket.
“Nick…” I begin, my voice trailing off as he abruptly throws the covers over my face, cutting me off mid-sentence. I yank the covers away and watch him retreat to the fireplace. His back turned to me as he refills his glass with nonchalant ease, taking a leisurely sip as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.
I glance around the room, wondering what the hell just happened. Wetting my lips nervously, I muster the courage to gently call out his name, hoping to seek clarity without provoking his ire and inviting his return.
“It’s Your Majesty to you,” he snaps, his tone sharp as his gaze pierces through me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat betraying my nervousness. “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” I reply, the words tasting bitter on my tongue as I reluctantly acknowledge the formality he demands.
I’m not entirely surprised by his insistence on formality, considering we are enemies. In hindsight, I should have anticipated it.
“You can leave in an hour,” he states casually, taking a sip of his drink.
“Okay,” I respond quietly, choosing not to press for an explanation of the unsettling encounter. With a heavy sigh, I sink back onto the bed, resigned to wait out the passage of time in uneasy silence.
An hour later, Nickolas lets me leave with his scent clinging to my skin like it was mine, probably due to spending an hour in his bed. I walk back to my room with a heavy heart, the weight of the past hour’s events pressing down on me like a suffocating cloak, and the cut on my thigh healed.
Upon entering, I find Beatrice sound asleep, her peaceful slumber a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me. Silently, I make my way to the bathroom to wash off the blood on my thighs. Stepping out once I’m done, I slip into my nightgown. Climb into bed and pull the covers snugly around me, seeking solace in the embrace of sleep. With a silent prayer whispered to the heavens, I close my eyes tightly, desperately hoping I won’t open my eyes until morning breaks. I think I have had enough for one day.