Alpha's Healer

7

Chapter seven.

Melissa Spatiatis.

My hands are on my throbbing chest and my back is against the door. The King’s room is still next to mine, I can run from his presence all I like but I’m only a few steps away from his chambers and in the confines of his castle. I place a hand on my lips, unable to believe what just transpired between us. How did I go from trying to explain that I didn’t try to run away to throwing a knife at him? And how did he go from allowing my treason pass to kissing me?

Kissing me.

The king kissed me. The beast of Gevaudan, the shadow wolf kissed me. His mouth was hot, fervent…when his lips brushed against mine, I couldn’t believe it. King Dimitrio kissed me, a wolfen who threw a knife at him. I slouch to the ground, my hands are still on my lips that are swollen from his hunger, his thirst. At first, I tried to break it but it was…heaven. I have been kissed before by a boy in the village but it was nowhere near to what Dimitrio did.

There was nothing innocent about his kiss. When I’m in his presence, I can hardly look at him or meet his eyes because of how dark his ire is. It isn’t something I would ever imagine. So, how? Why did I allow his tongue delve into mine when I knew was kissing a devil? I closed my eyes and I let the taste of his mouth get accustomed to me, the taste of fresh fruits.

I felt his need harden against me. It was until his hands latched upon my feminine side that I remembered what Elizabeth said. As stewards of the king, their job is to render themselves to the him but I…I don’t follow that rule and I don’t care what it is found on. Pulling away from him, I got to remember once again, that he is Dimitrio Seraphon, the one who has the past queen and his half siblings locked in his dungeons. The same one that would have cut off my father’s limbs. How could I have delighted in such intimate debauchery with him?

Making sure the door is tightly closed, I exhale—wondering how long I would be held here. How long would it take to repay the debt of a king?

The next morning, I wake up as early as I must even when I don’t want to. Elizabeth told me that I have to be awake as early as the king which is seven in the morning. There is a bell in the room that is engineered and connected to all quarters belonging to the servants. It is meant to wake us up at the correct time. According to Elizabeth, the king is said to have meetings in the throne room with his officials and I have to be present as he had commanded earlier.

Setting a pin into my hair, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The rustle of silk and the whisper of lace accompany my every movement as I exhale in relief, seeing how Elizabeth has provided me with a number of shoes since I got the first ones wet yesterday. Although, they are all in the same, black designs, I don’t mind.

I have spent my life in the forest, away from the eyes of others because I’m a wolfen. So, I don’t mind wearing the same things forever. I am someone who is present but hardly visible. The steward uniform is a gown, a rich crimson hue, it cascades in elegant folds around her form, trailing behind her like a river of scarlet silk. It’s nothing out of the ordinary but I am in awe by it because I never pay attention to dresses. Where would I wear them to without being called a wolfen!? I usually give them to my sisters and call it a day. The bodice of the gown is adorned with delicate lace and it frames my décolletage. After sweeping every hair into the pin on my hair, I walk out of the room and I close the door behind me. The moment I do so, I see Elizabeth at the door of the king’s chambers and she turns her face to look at me.

I make my way towards her and she hisses.

“You are five seconds late!” She hisses and I stand behind her.

The door to the King’s chambers open and it reveals him. I quickly focus my gaze to the ground, averting my gaze as I should. The scent of his presence has a base of exotic woods—sandalwood, cedar, and patchouli. And what…jasmine and roses…I depict. I am a healer; I know my herbs and I perceived this while we kissed last night. I don’t know if he recognizes that I’m here because he walks away as soon as the door opens.

“The throne room is filled, your majesty.” Elizabeth says, as we navigate the maze of halls, the king’s steps are incredibly fast. Her gown swishes softly with each hurried stride, the rustle of silk blending with the murmur of whispered conversation. At the same time she is trying to speak, the King’s general whom I met yesterday joins the train and he begins to talk to the king too. I hold my gown up, trying to march up to their pace because I’m far behind.

“They are asking for Mureok to be released.”

I overhear from what the General Allen is saying to the king. Eventually, we get to the throne room. As I stand outside the closed door, I can hear the overheated exchange within the room as it spills out like a tempest. Their muffled voices are raised in anger, reverberating through the thick wooden barrier.

“The king, his majesty!”

The doors of the throne room swing open with a solemn creak, and silence descends upon the assembled officials. I stand behind, refusing to walk in. I lift my head to see him in this instance where he wouldn’t be aware that I am staring at him since his back is turned. King Dimitrio has a regal bearing which is unmistakable to sight as he makes his way through the sea of courtiers and dignitaries. I take a look at his shirt, it is a rich crimson hue reminiscent of the blood, covering his broad back and armed shoulders that tell tales of his swordsmanship.

His breeches complete the ensemble, tailored to perfection and adorned with subtle accents of gold embroidery. While his boots are polished to a gleaming shine, it echoes with the sound of authority as he moves through the line created by the officials. King Dmitiro drives his hands through his hair, a mane of dark locks threaded with strands of silver, it is bound behind in a simple yet dignified knot.

He lowers himself onto the throne and I notice the jewels on his neck, those on his fingers and what else? His eyes, his eyes!

He is staring back at me! I gasp in shock, averting my gaze even though he would have noticed that I was staring at him all this while.

“What are you doing? Go stand by the king’s side!” Elizabeth says to me and I stare at her in horror. As I’m thinking about it for a second time, the servants in the castle gasps and scatter from a distance. Elizabeth pulls me away from the entrance as two war gammas march in, their footsteps are echoing and their armor clink with each step. Between them, they drag a prisoner, his hands are bound tightly behind his back, his clothing is dirty, evidence of his time in captivity.

The guards' grip on the prisoner is tight, almost brutal, as if they expect him to break free at any moment. They pulled him forward with rough jerks, their faces are contorted with a mixture of determination and aggression. The prisoner stumbles, his legs weak from confinement, but the guards showed no mercy. With a harsh tug, they force him to his feet, dragging him further into the throne room.

“Past King Mureok.” Elizabeth whispers.