The silence that followed my refusal was almost as satisfying as saying the words themselves. I watched the maid’s face fall, her eyes widening just slightly before she regained her composure. It was clear she didn’t know what to do with herself now—probably wasn’t used to seeing so disobey the Lycan King. I could almost see the internal battle playing out behind her eyes as she weighed whether to argue or scurry off to deliver the ssage.
She lingered for a mont, glancing between and the door, and then, with a shaky bow, she retreated, disappearing as quickly as she had co. The silence that followed was thick, wrapping around like a comforting blanket. Finally, just , the faint glow of the moon seeping through the curtains, and the soft purrs of my cats curling up beside . It was a small victory, a spark of rebellion I could cling to, and for the first ti that day, I felt sothing that wasn’t anger or resentnt. It was peace—a fragile, fleeting peace, but peace nonetheless.
I stretched out on the bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin, and let out a long, slow breath. It felt good to refuse him, to know that, even if just for tonight, I was the one in control. I could still feel the dull ache left over from the humiliating "sparring match" he had put through.
The room settled into a quiet lull, the stillness broken only by the occasional rustle as one of the cats shifted, curling closer to my side. I ran my hand over their fur absentmindedly, still replaying the day’s events in my mind.
I should’ve been resting, letting my mind recover, but I wasn’t able to. The thought kept slipping back like it was refusing to let enjoy any kind of peace. I could feel the weight of the Lycan King’s hand lifting my chin, forcing to et his gaze, his smug voice echoing in my head: "Just a friendly spar, mate." I grit my teeth just thinking about it. The audacity of him to call his "mate," knowing full well what I was—a Half-shifter with no true bond, no real connection.
Frustration simred, bubbling up like a pot on the edge of boiling over. But what could I do about it? Nothing. That’s what infuriated the most. I was stuck here, bound by this twisted arrangent, and no amount of defiance would change that. Not yet, anyway.
Unable to sit still any longer, I got up and started pacing the room, my bare feet cool against the floor. My cats watched with wide, curious eyes, their tails flicking in sync with my steps. The room felt too small, too confining, like the walls were closing in, inch by inch, trapping in this nightmare.
The next morning, the sun was already high in the sky when I finally stirred. The light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room, and for a brief, blissful mont, I forgot where I was. Forgot about the Lycan King, the looming responsibilities, the twisted web of expectations that had woven themselves into my life here. It was just , my cats, and the soft, lazy quiet of the morning.
I allowed myself to bask in it, if only for a mont, before reality ca crashing back in. I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. The Lycan King would find out soon enough, and I would have to deal with whatever consequences he deed fit. But that was a problem for later. Right now, I wanted to savor this rare sliver of freedom.
Just as I was beginning to feel comfortable, a soft knock echoed from the door. I groaned inwardly, already bracing myself for whatever news would interrupt my morning. This ti, the knock was hesitant, almost reluctant, and when I opened the door, it was the maid from last night, clutching a tray of breakfast.
She looked at with a nervous expression, as though bracing herself for a scolding, and gave a polite bow before setting the tray down on the small table near my bed. "I... I thought you might be hungry, my lady," she said softly, avoiding my gaze.
I raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at the gesture, but nodded my thanks, deciding not to make her job any harder. She lingered, clearly not wanting to overstep, but also not quite able to leave.
I settled into the chair beside the tray, picking at the fresh bread and fruits. "Did he send you?" I asked, keeping my voice calm, neutral.
The maid’s eyes darted up to et mine before quickly dropping to the floor. "No, my lady. His majesty... he hasn’t asked for you this morning."
I let that information settle, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. Part of had been bracing for him to co storming in here, demanding answers or forcing into yet another show of obedience. But he had stayed away. For now, at least.
She hesitated, as though debating whether to say more, before finally blurting out, "It’s just that... you shouldn’t refuse him, my lady."
I paused mid-bite, glancing up at her. "Oh?" I kept my tone casual, though my mind was already racing.
The maid shifted uncomfortably. "His majesty changed when you ca here, and... well, I believe he has a liking for you. That’s sothing you shouldn’t take for granted. His majesty, he..." She trailed off, clearly unsure of how much to reveal.
I gave a dry laugh, setting the bread back on the tray. "He has a liking for ?"
That was the most hilarious thing I have heard in days
She gave a small, almost relieved smile and bobbed her head in agreent. "Yes, my lady. But... I just thought you should know."
I sighed, leaning back in the chair, feeling a familiar mix of frustration and determination. He likes yet pushes , prodding, trying to see if I would break. Well, if that was his way of showing his likeness, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He had already taken so much from —the least I could do was hold onto this one scrap of defiance.
"Thank you," I said, nodding to the maid. "That’ll be all for now."
She gave a quick bow and disappeared from the room, leaving alone with my thoughts once more. I resud eating, savoring the rare feeling of autonomy. For as long as he kept his distance, I would use this ti to my advantage.
I will find a way out of this hellhole.
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