Lycan King's Regret: Punished The Wrong Daughter

Arabella Toussaint:

King Lucien was right when he said I didn’t have anything to wear.

"This will have to do for the time being," he handed me a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, "This is the smallest size they had," he told me.

I had been discharged from the hospital and needed to change before leaving. I wished I could see Zara.

I wasn’t aware if she was still admitted here.

When I came out of the bathroom, he turned to look at me. His eyes traveled slowly from head to toe.

"Nice!" He said with a nod and offered me his hand. Thinking he wanted a handshake, I lightly brushed my fingers against his. Instead, he wrapped his hand around mine, "Let’s go."

I looked down at our joined hands and tried to pull mine free, "I’d prefer walking without holding hands," but he didn’t let me go.

"And I’d prefer this," he raised our joined hands to my eye level, "I know there are questions racing through that pretty little head of yours and I’m ready to answer every one of them but... first we need to get you out of here."

And go exactly where? Back to that tiny Omega quarter? Or to that dinky portion right next to his room?

The palace wasn’t far from the hospital. I had expected a car to take us there, but instead he made me walk the entire way while holding my hand.

"The doctors want you to walk as much as possible," he explained, "There are still... quite a few toxins in your body. Walking will help flush them out faster."

I didn’t respond. I kept walking quietly beside him, already dreading the moment I’d have to face his mean family again. The queen might have acted kindly in front of him, but I knew better. She was a cunning woman who somehow managed to invade even my dreams...to give me more trauma.

Instead of using the main entrance of the palace, he led me through another door.

"This one is reserved for me," he explained. The man seemed to know me inside out. Thank Goddess. At least I wouldn’t have to see those hateful faces of his family.

"How’s Zara?" I suddenly stopped walking. He tugged my hand, forcing me to move forward, "Zara is good and was released yesterday. And thank you for speaking, or I thought you wouldn’t let me hear your voice."

My voice? I didn’t have a voice. I never had one.

The last time when I spoke my mind was twelve years ago, when my mom was still alive. She was the only one who could listen to my endless rambling without ever getting tired.

And still... still I killed her.

"Arabella?" His voice pulled me from my past. He was waiting for me to move. I realized that I had stopped walking again.

"Is everything alright?" I couldn’t speak and just nodded at him.

His expression softened, "I’m sorry. I should have asked you if you were tired," Before I could argue, I was scooped up in his strong arms.

"I can walk, your highness," But he ignored my protest and kept walking. We reached his room in a few strides.

***

"I’ll be back after attending a meeting and going for a run," he said before mindlinking someone. And what was I supposed to do in his absence?

Come on, Arabella. You’re a slave. You can’t expect him to hand you a box of color pencils just to cure your boredom.

The ridiculous thought almost made me smile, and I quickly clamped my lips tightly.

"You look beautiful when you smile," The unexpected compliment caught me off guard. Before he could notice, I forced the smile away and put my usual frown back in its place.

"You can take a walk in the garden if you’d like," he continued, "It’s a private garden. Don’t worry. I’ll ask an Omega to accompany you."

With that, he walked into the glass bathroom and started peeling off his clothes. Good Goddess. A bathroom with no privacy?

I spun around so quickly that I nearly stumbled. I busied myself studying the polished furniture and the paintings hanging on the wall. I was least interested in watching a naked king.

A few moments later, the sound of running water filled the room. I kept staring at the painting in front of me, pretending as if I knew a lot about them.

After a while, the shower stopped, and I heard footsteps approaching. Without turning around, I gathered my courage, "Your Majesty... umm... can I ... meet Zara?"

For a moment, there was only silence, then I felt him stop right behind me. Warm fingers gently caught my shoulder, turning me around.

"Of course, you can," his amused voice made my heart skip a beat. I instinctively lifted my gaze to his face. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and tiny droplets of water traced down his neck lazily before disappearing beneath the waistband of his...

Oh, he was wearing boxers. Thank sweet Goddess.

I immediately looked away, and a chuckle escaped him, "Relax. I’m not planning to make you uncomfortable. At least, not so soon."

Heat rushed to my face, "Umm. Then... what are you planning to do?"

His face grew serious as he leaned towards me. I unconsciously stepped back, bumping into the wall.

He placed his palms on either side of me, imprisoning me, "That’s a good question," he murmured, "I might be planning to make you fall for me, princess."

I must have heard him wrong. Fall for him?

"I..." I cleared my throat with great struggle, "I won’t fall for you."

The faint smile on his face vanished as he leaned more into me, "You will, princess," He whispered, "One day you will. And when you do, Arabella... I’ll be here ... waiting. Ready to catch you."

For a moment I thought he was about to kiss me. But then he just playfully bumped his nose against mine and straightened.