Chapter 5: The Personal Maid

The next morning, Amelia woke me before dawn. Her face carried the same stern expression as always, but there was something new in her gaze. Concern, perhaps?

“Listen carefully, Emili,” she said as she handed me a new uniform, more elegant than the previous one. “Starting today, you will be King Alaric’s personal maid. You will attend exclusively to his chambers, prepare his meals, and take care of his clothes and anything else he requires.”

I nodded silently, feeling my stomach tighten with apprehension.

“The rules are simple,” Amelia continued. “Do not ask questions, do not speak unless spoken to, do your work in silence, and above all, avoid any physical or visual contact with him.” Her voice grew darker. “You’ve already seen what happens to women who try to be clever and climb into his bed without being invited.”

The memory of that shattered body falling from the third floor made me shudder.

“Yes, Beta Amelia,” I replied, head bowed.

“Good. You’ll start by bringing him breakfast. Follow me.”

As we walked toward the kitchens, I repeated to myself that I needed to stay as far away from that dangerous man as possible. For now, I would follow every rule to the letter. It was my only chance of surviving this new hell.

---

Alaric’s private wing was even more impressive than I had imagined. It consisted of three rooms, a sitting area, and a study, all decorated with understated yet unmistakable luxury. I soon discovered that the room where I had found the King with those women was not his main bedroom, but some kind of… recreation room.

His true bedroom was next door, far larger and more imposing. The massive, majestic bed dominated the space. A marble bathroom connected to a walk-in wardrobe. And the terrace… the terrace offered a breathtaking panoramic view of the Lycan Pack’s fields and forests.

With trembling hands, I placed the breakfast tray on the table in the sitting room. The King was already there, reviewing documents. He didn’t even look up when I entered.

I stood in a corner, head lowered, waiting for him to finish so I could clear the dishes. The silence was so thick I could hear my own heart pounding.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Alaric set the documents aside and began to eat. He didn’t say a word. When he finished, he simply stood and left the room.

That was how my new routine began.

---

The days turned into a week in the blink of an eye. The pattern was always the same: I brought his meals, cleaned his rooms, prepared his clothes and… removed the women who visited his “recreation room.”

In that first week, at least ten different women paraded through there. He never repeated; it was always two or even three at the same time. The routine never changed: he would lock himself in with them for a couple of hours, then walk out naked down the hallway without the slightest shame and order me to remove them.

What had initially taken my breath away—seeing the King in all his naked glory—became routine. It no longer surprised me. It was simply part of my job.

What did surprise me was that not once—not a single time—did I see him take a woman into his main bedroom. That space seemed sacred, untouchable to his fleeting conquests.

---

One afternoon, after cleaning up the remains of another of his “sessions,” Alaric summoned me to his study. It was the first time he addressed me for something other than ordering me to remove his lovers.

“Close the door,” he said without looking up from the papers he was reviewing.

I obeyed, remaining near the entrance, head bowed as always.

“Come closer.”

I stepped toward his desk, feeling my heart accelerate. Had I done something wrong? Was this the moment he would throw me out a window like the other maid?

To my surprise, he handed me a bank card.

“Your salary will be deposited here every month,” he explained in a neutral tone. “I’ve already ordered your first month’s pay and an extra bonus for the good work you’ve been doing.”

I blinked, confused. A salary? I had assumed I would work only for room and board.

“I… thank you, sir. I didn’t expect—”

“I’m not a slave driver,” he interrupted. “Everyone who works for me receives fair pay. You will be no exception.”

He explained that the pack’s city had every convenience: shopping centers, food stores, luxury boutiques, appliance shops… anything I needed could be found there. There were even ATMs to withdraw money.

When I reached out to take the card, his fingers brushed mine. Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist—firm, not painful, but unyielding. His brow furrowed as he stared at me intensely.

“Why can’t I feel your wolf?” he asked, his red eyes locking onto mine.

My heart stopped for a moment. It was the first time anyone had noticed so directly. In my former pack, they had simply labeled me “the cursed omega” without asking questions.

“Because I’ve never been able to feel her,” I replied in a barely audible voice, keeping my head lowered. “I experienced trauma in my childhood when someone murdered my parents. It was… bad, and a curse fell upon me. I can shift now, but I’ve never had a connection with my inner wolf. I think I don’t have one.”

“That’s impossible,” he muttered, releasing my wrist. “All wolves have a connection to their inner beast. It’s what defines us.”

I remained silent, unsure what to say.

“You may go,” he finally said. “And enjoy your money. You’ve earned it.”

I nodded and left the study quickly, feeling a strange sense of relief. For some reason, I no longer felt quite so nervous in his presence. He was intimidating, yes—but I didn’t feel he intended to harm me. At least not for now.

---

That night, I went upstairs as usual to check if the King needed anything before retiring. I expected to find the usual gathering of naked bodies and uninhibited moans, but to my surprise, everything was silent.

I was about to leave when I heard a strange noise coming from his main bedroom. A guttural, almost animal sound, followed by a dull thud.

I froze. I never entered his bedroom unless he was absent and I needed to clean. But something about the sound alarmed me. Was he injured? Had he been attacked?

After a moment of hesitation, concern overcame fear. I knocked softly and, receiving no answer, opened the door cautiously.

What I saw stole my breath.

Alaric was on the floor, writhing. His muscular body glistened with sweat, and his breathing was irregular, almost panting. His face, usually impassive, was twisted in a grimace of pain and… desire?

“Sir?” I approached carefully. “Are you alright? Do you need help?”

His eyes—redder than ever—locked onto mine. There was something wild in them, something primitive that made me instinctively step back.

“I’ve… been… drugged,” he managed between ragged breaths. “At dinner… someone put something in my food.”

“I’ll call the doctor,” I said, turning toward the door.

“NO!” he roared, the force of his voice paralyzing me. “They can’t see me like this… I am the King…”

He crawled toward me clumsily, his muscles tensing beneath his skin.

“I need… release,” he growled. “Or I’ll lose control… completely.”

Before I could react, his hand closed around my ankle. The contact sent an electric shock through my body.

“Please…” his voice was barely a hoarse whisper. “Help me.”

He rose enough to grasp my waist. His large hands roamed my body desperately, pulling involuntary moans from my throat. He tried to kiss me, but I turned my face away.

“I can’t,” I said, struggling to free myself. “I don’t want to…”

But my body betrayed my words. Something inside me responded to his touch, his closeness, his intoxicating scent. It was as if a dormant part of me had suddenly awakened—hungry, eager.

“Please…” he repeated, and this time there was genuine pleading in his voice. “Only you can help me.”

His lips found my neck, and I felt his fangs graze my skin. A shiver of pleasure ran down my spine.

What is happening to me? I thought, confused. This man was a predator, a monster who treated women like disposable objects. And yet…

His hands slid beneath my uniform, caressing my skin with a mixture of desperation and reverence that left me breathless. Each touch sent waves of heat to my abdomen, awakening sensations I believed had died after what Ricardo had done to me.

“I can’t,” I repeated, but my voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

Alaric looked into my eyes, and for a moment I saw something beyond lust. I saw vulnerability. I saw need. I saw… humanity.

“If you don’t help me,” he whispered against my lips, “I don’t know what I’ll do. The drug… it’s powerful. Designed for alphas. It’s driving me insane.”

His body trembled against mine, and I could feel his arousal pressing against my stomach—huge, hot, pulsing.

“Why me?” I managed to ask. “You have dozens of willing women…”

“Because you’re different,” he replied, burying his face in my neck. “I can’t feel your wolf… it’s as if you don’t exist… and that drives me crazy. I need… to feel you.”

His words awakened something inside me. My entire life I had been “the cursed omega,” the woman without a connection to her wolf, the defective one. And now the most powerful man in the wolf world desired me precisely because of that.

As his hands continued exploring my body and his lips left a trail of fire along my skin, a battle raged within me.

Should I give in to this unexpected desire? Or should I stand firm and reject him, risking facing his wrath when the drug consumed him completely?

The decision was in my hands—and time was running out with every beat of my racing heart.