NICKOLAS
I twirl my bourbon glass, captivated by the intricate dance of ice cubes within, each movement offering a temporary respite from the weight of reality pressing down on me. Shifting my gaze upwards, I observe Amelia sleeping soundly in her bed a few feet away. Her golden locks cascade over the pillow, and a subtle pout graces her lips, an endearing sight that unexpectedly tugs at my heartstrings.
Images flash through my mind with vivid intensity, relentless and unyielding. I envision my hands entwined in her hair, gripping it with a fervor matching the intensity of my desire. The thought of her lips wrapped around my hard-on ignites a surge of arousal coursing through me. I moisten my lips, hoping the bourbon hasn’t dulled the taste of her juices lingering on them.
I hadn’t intended to punish her at Eric’s, but seeing her moving to sit next to him after spending the whole dinner like they were a couple on a date, I lost it.
Logically, I know there’s no threat from Eric; he’s mated to Lily, and he will never be with Amelia even if he didn’t find her, but I can’t fucking help it. Her easy banter with him, the effortless way she smiles and laughs, causes my fucking heart to feel like a thousand needles pierced it. The overwhelming desire to be the sole source of her joy, to see her smile and laugh only for me, is almost unbearable. It takes every ounce of restraint not to demand it of her.
Seeing her smile so genuinely, especially in Eric’s presence, caught me off guard. It was as if I was witnessing a side of her I had never seen before, one that others seem to easily bring out. It made me realize that the version of her I’ve come to know may not be the same as the one others see. In that moment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somehow missing out, like I had drawn the short straw. I yearn to experience that side of her, to understand what it is about others that brings out such warmth and happiness in her. But why this desire consumes me, I couldn’t fucking begin to fathom.
I had planned to punish her when we returned to the castle, but my impatience got the best of me. She disobeyed my direct order to wait in my room after freshening up, and her behavior with Eric during dinner only fueled my frustration. I’m glad I didn’t wait. Making her almost climax at Eric’s place was the perfect punishment. Yet, if I’m honest with myself, there’s another reason behind why I couldn’t help my hand off her. Images of her moaning and calling out to me last night have haunted my thoughts all day.
My dick pulses in my pants at the memory. It took every ounce of self-control not to bury my dick deep inside her and make her cum multiple times. The temptation was nearly overwhelming. I’m so fucking relieved she dozed off once I was finished with her last night, as I’m not sure I could have resisted otherwise. The scent of her mixed with her cum almost undid me the previous night. I didn’t even know the mate bond was that fucking strong, but a part of me feels it might not be the sole reason I want her. The bond draws me to her, but I believe I would still crave Amelia just as intensely, even without it.
I take a sip of my drink, the familiar burn of alcohol momentarily distracting me from the other thoughts swirling in my mind, like how tomorrow is my mother’s death anniversary. Centuries may have passed since her passing, but the pain still feels fresh, as though it happened just yesterday. The memory of her being taken from me cuts deep, a wound that time has failed to fully heal.
My grip tightens around the glass, knuckles straining against the pressure, as the image of the monster responsible for taking her away flashes vividly in my mind. Anguish surges through me, threatening to crush me under its weight, and I feel the glass buckle beneath my grasp. I glance towards the bed, and in an instant, the glasses shatter into a million pieces, jolting Amelia awake. She quickly fumbles for the bedside lamp, casting the room into light as she scans the surroundings, her baby blue eyes wide with alarm.
Her baby blue eyes land on me, and it takes a moment for her to recognize who I am. When she does, her eyes slowly return to their normal size, but I can still sense the wariness and fear in them. She gets out of bed, and her cautious steps toward me betray the distrust she has towards me.
“Your majesty,” she says, keeping her gaze fixed on me with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
As I gaze at her, I can’t help but be reminded of that bitch Jane. The same features, the same demeanor – and yet now, as I stare at her, I see Amelia only, not Jane. I hate that bitch Jane with every fiber of my being. The mere mention of her name in my head has my blood boiling, and I have to clench my fists hard to control my anger. I couldn’t even believe that Amelia standing before me was related to Jane in any way.
“Go back to sleep, Amelia,” I growl, the words harsh against the backdrop of my turmoil. I reach for the bottle of bourbon I brought with me and take a long, hard sip straight from it, the burn providing a temporary distraction from the chaos swirling inside my mind.
“You’re bleeding, your majesty. Do you need help?” Amelia’s voice is laced with concern as she moves closer, attempting to grab my hand that was staining the floor crimson. I quickly pull it away before she can make contact. The cuts I sustained from shattering the glass earlier refuse to heal at the speed they should. It’s no surprise, though, considering I still have traces of oak tree venom coursing through my system. Oaktree Venom is the dreaded kryptonite for lycans.
The treacherous lycans I killed the other night indeed did a number on me before I brutally tore their heads from their bodies and drenched myself in their warm, crimson blood. It still mystified me how they had obtained Oak tree venom and actually dared to use it against me, but the unanswered questions would have to wait for another time.
“Go back to sleep, Amelia,” I instruct, rising from the couch in her room with the intention of leaving.
“Your majesty,” Amelia’s voice stops me in my tracks, prompting me to pause on my way to the door. I hear her soft footsteps drawing closer, and what happens next catches me completely off guard. Amelia seizes my arms without warning and whirls me around, her actions bold and unexpected. Her petite hands find their way to my face, cradling it gently as she gazes up at me, dwarfed by my towering stature.
Instinctively, I raise my hand to push hers away, but something in her eyes gives me pause. In that moment, as she locks eyes with me, an unmistakable look of pity is reflected in her gaze. My hand hesitates, frozen in mid-air, as I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from hers. The intensity of her stare sends a shiver down my spine, and for the first time, I feel a flicker of vulnerability creeping into my heart.
“Is something wrong?” Amelia’s voice breaks through the tense silence, her question only adding to the audacity of her actions tonight. I’m left speechless, taken aback by her daring to question me, though another reason keeps me silent.
I wait for it, that familiar sensation that always accompanies a woman’s touch, but to my astonishment, it never comes. Amelia’s hand continues to rest against my cheeks, imparting warmth that should have been impossible for anyone even her my mate. Panic grips me, seizing control of my senses as I instinctively wrap my hands around her neck, driving her back against the nearest wall with force. My grip tightens, fingers digging into her delicate skin as I slowly begin to choke the life out of her.
“I warned you never to touch me, didn’t I?”
“I’m sorry,” she manages to choke out, her face flushing red as my grip tightens around her neck.
“I will only repeat myself once. Don’t. Ever. Fucking. Touch. Me. Again,” I growl, the words laced with an icy finality. With a swift motion, I release my hold, causing her to crumple to the floor with a resounding thud. She coughs violently, her hand instinctively reaching up to rub her bruised throat.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, her voice trembling as she meets my gaze with those captivating baby blue eyes, now brimming with tears. My heart constricts painfully in my chest, a tumultuous mix of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Ignoring the stirring in my heart, I turn on my heel and exit her room before I can make matters worse.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I scream, my fists colliding with the wall of my room in a fit of frustration. The image of her tear-filled eyes flashes in my mind, haunting me even as I try to push it away.
I need to shower and get some rest, I remind myself, attempting to shove aside the tangled mess of emotions that threaten to consume me. With a heavy sigh, I trudge towards the bathroom, hoping that the water will wash away not only the grime of the day but also the unsettling thoughts that plague my mind.