Lycan King's Regret: Punished The Wrong Daughter

Arabella Toussaint:

While walking aimlessly through the palace hallways, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. The king must have stayed with me for a while after I fell asleep. Because last night’s nightmare had been different.

That crazy queen tried to attack me again but couldn’t do much. Maybe because a strong arm had been wrapped around my waist, holding me against a warm chest. It made me feel safe even in my dream.

I didn’t know how I would look into his eyes after what I did last night. I never felt this sexy, and this wanted in my entire life.

When I woke up after a good sleep, he had already left, and I wasn’t wearing my wet clothes anymore.

Did he change them? I asked myself. The thought made the corners of my lips lift again. Without realizing where my feet were taking me, I found myself standing outside the royal kitchen.

Before I could think twice, I stepped inside. The usual chatter in the room died instantly, and dozens of eyes turned toward me.

Ever since I was sent here to the palace, it was the first time I had walked to the kitchen on my own two feet instead of on my knees. The Omegas working there stared at me as if they had seen a ghost.

Helena, who was handing a knife to an Omega, slowly lowered it. Her shocked expression made my smile slowly fade.

My gaze wandered around the kitchen until it landed on a tray piled with jelly-filled buns.

Oh Goddess. My stomach growled.

I walked to a shocked Helena and pointed at them, "Can I have one?"

Helena tried to smile in nervousness and glanced towards the kitchen entrance before looking back at me.

"Please..." she whispered, "If His Highness finds out you came here, he might not be happy. And if he learns that we gave you those buns," she swallowed, "He might get angrier."

"Oh," I chewed my lower lip. Why would the king make an issue about eating buns? He clearly didn’t know how they tasted.

Helena let out a quiet chuckle when she saw me thinking hard, "However, if you take one yourself, then I suppose none of us can be blamed."

A slow smile made its way to my face, "Really?" she gave me the tiniest nod. With a sigh, I hurried to the tray before she could change her mind. I grabbed one plate and carefully placed a jelly-filled bun on it.

After taking a stool near the counter, I took a bite and ohhh. The sweet strawberry filling melted on my tongue, making my eyes widen.

I could feel every pair of eyes in the kitchen following my every move.

"Mmm..." I hummed loudly, not caring what they all must have been thinking of me. I ate quickly, afraid that at any moment someone would snatch the bun away and force me back onto my knees.

After finishing my second bun, I was trying to decide if I should go for the third one when I caught Helena out of the corner of my eye placing a large glass at some distance.

For me!

Without wasting a minute, I reached for it. Sweet Goddess. It was a mango smoothie.

Today nobody was bullying me. They might have understood that I was someone special... someone closer to the king.

After all, they had all seen the mate mark that day.

Is this the end of all my worries? Of all the abuse I have endured to this day?

I wanted to believe it was.

That fear remained there, deep buried inside me. It had become a part of me. Whenever I allowed myself to feel even a little happiness, life found another way to remind me that I was wrong.

The last time I was taken to the king’s quarters, I was dragged out by my hair. No one offered me any explanation, nor was I told why the king marked me in the first place. That day, something had broken.

Or perhaps something had finally begun to wake.

I had been humiliated all my life... stripped of the little dignity I never realized I still possessed. But something had changed since then.

Now no one was forcing wolfsbane down my throat, and a tiny, unfamiliar voice had begun whispering inside me.

You deserve better.

Years of fear had taught me to lower my head, to apologize or stay quiet even when I had done nothing wrong... to accept every insult as if I deserved it.

But now that voice had refused to stay quiet.

It made me want something I had never wanted before.

Respect.

Not as a slave or a maid. But as a person.

I turned to leave when a familiar face got my attention. It was the same chef who once ordered me to make bone broth when I was on my knees. The poor man was avoiding eye contact, but the moment our eyes met, I smiled. His face turned pale.

"Hello there," I greeted as I walked toward him. He stood beside a large stockpot with fresh bones piled on the tray, waiting to be split open.

What a coincidence.

I reached over to pick up the cleaver, "Do you need help?"

He had started shaking his head, but I ignored his panic and picked up a bone and cracked it using the cleaver.

I kept scraping the marrow into the simmering broth.

Helena stepped closer, "You should go back before you get into trouble," Her warning didn’t work. I smiled without stopping.

While washing my hands, I looked at the pile of split bones, "Done!" I said to the chef cheerfully and gave him a playful salute, "Have a nice day, you all!"

As I walked out, I couldn’t help smiling. Today there was no mockery in their eyes. Maybe because they hadn’t expected a Beta’s daughter to know her way around a kitchen.

While leaving the kitchen, my eyes caught a familiar saffron colored sticky note attached to a cardboard box filled with mangoes.

Maya had always been obsessed with saffron colored sticky notes. With a speeding heartbeat, I hurried over and tore it off to read,

3,5,1,1 9,3,5 3,8,9,7,4,3,5,2

Saffron colored note. Numbers in a certain pattern.

Goddess! It was a coded message from Maya. I needed to get back to my room and decode it as soon as possible.