Please Me First

Morgan's POV

I cocked a brow, trying to connect the dots.

“You mean you need me to help you steal further from me? Right?”

“Precisely. You've always been so smart.”

I hated his nerves, the fact that he was unapologetic about it each time. It rattled me.

“You're out of your mind.”

“I need your help to manage them and scare them. I need your knowledge on that subject matter basically.”

I wanted to outrightly mock him, so I did.

“I thought you're the all round powerful king, what's so hard about the council?”

“I can't let this deal slip away. I'm doing it for the pack, for all of us.”

Now that's what made me mad. He was doing so well, being the very asshole he was at the start of our conversation. Now acting like he cared was super offensive to me.

“You're doing it for yourself so no, I won't help you. Save yourself the embarrassment of begging me, because my answer will still be no. You may leave.”

His face conveyed no emotion as he looked at me once and just led himself out of the room. I couldn't care less. Honestly, it felt good to have done that, really good.

He took everything I had and still had the audacity to ask me for help. Did he think I'd consider it because of how well he pleasured me? He was probably doing that to other women.

Being part of his harem was already driving me mad. I scoffed, then rolled my eyes. Now he knew exactly how it felt.

It was clear this matter was driving him insane, and that's what made it better, because he really couldn't fix it himself to have come meet me like a fucking idiot.

At least now I knew he had that problem.

At the end of the day, I'll always be the best ruler this pack has ever had, whether they liked it or not.

A couple of days passed, and I started hearing rumors of a certain Isabelle.

A blonde haired pretty she-wolf, the daughter of the old alpha king of a neighbouring pack.

This Isabelle was in talks with Azriel, and it wasn't strategic talks. They seemed to be an item. I heard it through cheap gossip, and I didn't want to believe it.

Of course until this crazy ass man brought her to the palace on a special invitation.

He paraded her around, and she seemed special, like he rated her higher, probably above me and the other concubines I couldn't care less about.

I was heavily displeased, and for the first time since the takeover, Alma let me know of her existence.

She howled around me, wailing, letting me know that yes, Azriel did hold this girl in a higher regard.

I scoffed at her. How could she be attracted to someone she was scared of at the same time? She needed to pick a struggle.

Of course I had to meet this new friend of his. I walked into the living room as casually as I could, and I headed straight for Azriel. He looked rather startled, and it was probably because I interrupted their conversation.

“Azriel, do you need me for anything?” I wore the brightest smile on my face, but I was actually boiling from inside. This Isabella girl was glowing, such a beauty.

He shook his head, surprised that I'd even ask such a question. I know, I shocked myself too, because why would I ever want to help him?

“No, I'm perfectly fine, thank you.”

At that point I couldn't care less. I faced my newest enemy who had no idea she was my new enemy. Why I even wanted her gone made no sense, but at least it wasn't like I was jealous or something.

“Hi, I'm—”

“Morgan, I know who you are. I'm Isabelle. Nice to meet you….” I blinked at her warm smile. She knew me?

“Oh, nice to meet you too. What do you know about me?”

That's when I noticed something under that warm smile, something unwelcoming.

It was sharp and basically hard to process that it actually happened.

“Not much.”

I'm not sure I really liked her tone.

She didn't like me. Of course she didn't. Well, I don't like her either. In fact, I despise her.

After her stupid visit, I stayed awake that night, waiting patiently.

Azriel cannot treat me like this. Acting like he would die if he didn't have his way with me and bringing a new woman around the same period was beyond insane.

When I was so sure he'd be asleep, I grabbed my beautiful dagger that has never failed me, and I snuck into his chambers. Luckily and for some weird, foolish reason, his door was open, and it was so smooth for me to enter his room.

His sleeping figure was on his bed, so peaceful, so fucking dead. I snuck up on him, and I reached for my dagger.

I'm such a fucking fool after all. The very day I wouldn't let my rage get the best of me, I'd be free of this man, because tell me why, just before I could stab him deep into his chest, his eyes opened up sharply.

Those eyes that spilled into mine, haunting and terrifying, it almost had my breath seized. I stood rooted, the knife falling from my hands, and before I could make a run for it, I was grabbed, and I was harshly thrown into the bed.

He climbed on top of me, and his hands wrapped around my throat as tightly as he could, and he started squeezing.

“Azriel! Azriel!” I screamed, my eyes widening in pure fear.

I struggled on that bed, and he didn't even care. He was long gone, boiling, angry, ready to kill me. I fought for my life, my legs kicking, my hands scratching his, trying to get him off me, but it was to no avail. Slowly air became a luxury, and my vision began to blur into whites. I stopped fighting.

Maybe I deserved to die for being an idiot.

Just when I thought I was long dead, he released his hands, getting off me.

I swear I almost coughed out blood as I rubbed my neck, wiping the stupid tears off my face.

He got out of his bed in the most graceful way, then he walked into the bathroom for a second. He seemed to wash his face as he got out, and he just sat on the bed. For me, I was still struggling to recover from an almost death experience.

“How did that feel?” He asked, turning on the bed lamp.

I glared hard at him for the stupid question, but I got to see his lethal face.

“That's exactly how I would've felt if you stabbed me. Actions have consequences. All I did was get even. You're begging to get hurt.”

I ignored him, leaving the bed and reaching for my knife. Well, that was unsuccessful.

“I'll give you the tears you deserve if that knife barely brushes against my skin again, ever.”

That kind of pissed me off. At this point I was right in front of him, standing while he sat down, and we were just staring at each other.

“I don't like it when you make me look like an idiot. What are you doing with her?”

A coy smile formed on his face, the kind that made my legs shake. What a handsome devil.

“Making her my queen. I'm glad you noticed.” He was so full of malice, he breathed malice, it was exciting to him.

“I will kill her, Azriel. I will. If I can't kill you, I will kill her.”

He didn't seem to take me seriously.

“And what makes you think you're stronger than Isa?”

He already had a nickname for her. How great.

“I'm warning you, tell her to stop coming here. Don't insult me further. I won't have another woman parading my palace like she owned the place. She doesn't even like me. She wants war.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I'm not playing with you.”

“I'd like to see you try touching her, honestly. Sounds like entertainment.”

“Azriel—”

“No. Please me first. Do something good for me, you jealous brat.”

I rolled my eyes. He thinks he's the prize?

“It's not jealousy. I don't want you. You'll see dear Isa in a pool of her own blood soon. Make the right decision.”

“You will want me. It's only a matter of time. Since you can't help me with my problems, I shouldn't consider getting you pleased at all.”

I understood him perfectly. He should go straight to hell.

The very next morning, Isabelle visited again, and I tried to maintain my cool. He was trying me.

She truly didn't like me.

Just after Isabelle left though, a new problem fell on his plate, a problem he thought he had escaped like the fucking idiot that he was.

I'd like to see how well he runs my pack and until then, I will never rest until I get it back.