Your Majesty

| • Penelope's POV

I was scared. 

I know I chose this path, even walked into his luxurious car with him—one I didn't even know where it came from—but as we drove out of Ernaut's estate. 

One thing was clear.

I had submitted my fate into the hands of my enemy.

With none of my belongings.

Something no one in all of Lycos, across the five regions, would dare to do.

Much less to the king of Lycos. And it was that same revelation that caused my whole body to tremble as I sat before him in the cabin. 

A car was usually owned by nobles, while carriages and trolleys were meants for middle-class citizens and bottom-rung commoners who roam the street. 

The car the king used to return to his palace was something I would never, in all my life, imagine riding in—let alone sitting across from him, in chains.

Despite that, I was uncomfortable.

At least this king wasn’t outright ruthless to his citizens—despite building a social ladder too high enough for anyone else to climb.

As he sat before me, I couldn't even meet his cold stare, fearing I would appear weak.

Predators despise the smell of fragility on their prey. 

And since I had chosen this path, I had to hold onto it like the werewolf I was.

The pain of the chains around my wrists made me groan softly now and then, but even that couldn't compete with the noise of my pounding heart. 

My palms were clammy. I sat as if on needles, racking my brain for a way to survive death.

I had cheated fate once, but if I were to die on the very day I woke up...

What would have been the point?

I shook my head, softly biting down on my lower lip. I must survive—if it's the last thing I do.

The ride was short, something a carriage could never achieve. Before I could fully breathe, an icy cold hand covered mine. I flinched instinctively...

“You seem far too absent-minded to notice we have arrived.” 

I gasped in surprise as his voice drifted into my ear, much closer than I had expected.

I pulled my hand away as quickly as I could, hissing from the sting the chains caused.

They burned.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Your Majesty,” I murmured, though bile rose in my throat just from addressing him.

I hated him. 

“Mhm.” 

He replied simly, and because my head remained lowered, all I saw were his feet as he stepped out of the car—graceful, majestic, not a single misstep.

Like he had been doing it all his life. Unlike me.

I thought to follow and maybe sneak a peek at the exterior of the king’s castle, but as soon as I moved, two men roughly seized me. I wanted to scream but they gagged me before I could.

My eyes widened in horror. My heart raced uncontrollably as I clenched my fist so tight my nails broke.

They pulled me out of the car, not even caring that my ankle hit the car door.

“Ugh..” I groaned in pain but they paid no heed to my predicament. 

What did I expect? I was a slave. This kind of treatment was neededto be expected. 

Tears stung my eyes, but I held them back. This much—I could endure. 

I didn't even have time to take in the beauty of his enormous castle.

They dragged me behind him as the King walked toward his chambers. Servants bowed in respect to him, but when their eyes met mine, they were filled with disdain.

I hated them too. The feeling was mutual. If I had any other route to choose, I would have taken it a thousand times over.

Then we stopped. 

I lifted my head to see why—Molten gold eyes stared back at me with scrutiny and something more.

When did he—?

“Does it hurt?” He asked. I pressed my lips into a thight line.

I gritted my teeth. I had to respond—he was the king. He wouldn’t repeat himself twice.

And the way he was looking at me? Like he was measuring how many seconds it would take to carve me like a pig.

So I squeaked, “No, Your Majesty.” 

His eyes hardened. He was angry—but for what reason I couldn't know.

Then, to my shock, he dropped to his knees. Drawing a series of gasps from his men and the servants. 

Instinct made me stagger back, even though I was still held. But then—he grabbed my leg, halting me. 

He gave me that same defiant gaze.

I groaned as pain shot through me—

He was clutching my wound. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead, my face drained of color. I thought he would keep pressing until I passed out.

But instead, he released it.

Then—softly, almost like a feather—he caressed the wound. It tickled, but I couldn't laugh. I just wanted his filthy hands off me.

If it were anyone else, I would have kicked them. But this was the king. I thought he would leave after confirming I was injured. 

But then he suddenly did something that made my eyes fly open.

“Your Majesty!” his Beta roared, his eyes blazing with disgust. As if his master was doing something revolting.

Which he was. Because this man—this royalty—was licking my wound. I was frozen. Numb.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t speak and couldn’t believe it.

He licked my wound. Like a wild wolf.

“Gideon, you are too noisy.” He breathed as he stood, his voice like smoke. 

The room was pindrop silent—except for Gideon’s furious, ragged breathing.

He glared at me, and I looked back at him still trying to make sense of what had happened.

My foot slowlyreturned to the ground, and when I stood on it...there was no pain. I looked down and found the wound—gone. Completely healed.

I was speechless. 

When I loooked up, the King was already walking away—

As if he hadn’t just shaken my heart with one bizarre act, and didn’t even care.

There was this strange feeling in my chest I couldn’t name—tight, hot, sickening. His men were slow to react, stunned like I was, but eventually they dragged me forward again.

No one had ever done this to me before.

We passed through the palace halls, but I couldn’t admire them. Eventually, we emerged into the open air again. The place smelled like black pepper and Vanilla—his scent. 

This was undoubtedly the King’s private quarters. 

Then he stopped at the door. He turned and looked at me and I blinked, confused.

What now?

His gaze dropped lower, and I instinctively followed it—only to draw my leg back. It wasn’t chained at least. And I didn’t want to be licked again.

He laughed.

A low, rolling sound that scraped against my spine and made my brain go quiet. And again—that feeling in my heart grew intense.

And I hated it. I was repulsed by it.

“Release the chain on her wrists.” He said it so casually, like it meant nothing. I raised an eyebrow.

I expected his Beta to protest this time, but he simple signaled one of the guards.

A wave of relief rolled through me as the chain dropped to the floor with a heavy clink. The king was still looking at me—lazy in posture, but the interest in his eyes...

Whatever it meant, I didn’t like it.

I wanted to ask questions, but every time I parted my lips, I closed it again. 

He crossed his arms. 

That's when I noticed he had changed—no longer in his battle attire. He now wore a white shirt and black pants, his foot tapping lightly as if in thougth. But his gaze never left me—and it made me shrink back.

I was already prepared to say something to break the nerving silence when he suddenly spoke.

“Take her to the east wing,” he pointed to a place beside his own chambers and I followed his gaze with furrowed brows, “Clean her up, dress her up and feed her well—for I will visit her tonight.” 

The command rolled off his tongue in a raspy tone that sent my heart into chaos. That sickening burn in my chest returned.

I was confused. Why was I being assigned a wing—one so close to him?

Shouldn't I be assigned hard labor? scrubbing floors until my fingers bled? Why was I being cleaned?

Before I could make sense of it, a few maids rushed toward me and began dragging me along, the king didn’t need to speak anymore as he simply walked into his chambers while the maids dragged me along..

“There seems to be a mistake, Your Majesty—” I called out to him while I struggled out of the strong women but to no avail, he didn’t even glance at me. 

They pulled me toward what would now be my new residence. 

I didn’t get a second to admire the place. They rushed me like they were preparing a dish for the king’s feast—And I was the meal. 

Fear still lingered deep in my belly, but I had to be ready. Ready to escape death in whatever form. Even though it comes crawling to me.

I wouldn't submit to death, no matter what.

That's what I said. 

But now, kneeling on the cold floor, wearing a nightdress, with pink lipstick stained on my lips, and facing the king—

My mind went numb. 

“Greetings, Your Majesty.”