Prepare Her

A few days later…

Althea’s lashes fluttered slowly as her world appeared hazy, spinning, muffled, and distant at first. Her throat was dry and rough like sandpaper, while her chest felt heavy, as if something was pressing down on it. A groan slipped from her lips as her fingers twitched against the soft sheets.

“Althea!” The voice cut through like sunlight piercing fog. Melva only used her first name when she was deeply worried or furious.

She looked up to see Melva’s teary face looming above her. Her personal servant appeared exhausted, hair dishevelled, eyes swollen, but filled with pure relief.

“You’re awake! Thanks to the Almighty!” Melva exclaimed, softly embracing her. Althea flinched. “W-What... happened?”

“You were poisoned,” Melva gasped, pulling back. “You collapsed in the Alpha King’s arms. We thought... We feared we had lost you, My Lady.”

Her heart beat heavily and slowly. Memories flooded in - the wine, Gavriel’s voice, his eyes, the kiss, and then darkness.

“How long?” she croaked.

“You’ve been unconscious for three days,” Melva said. “We’ve also been traveling for two days now. The Alpha King ordered your chambers dismantled and took you with him to the capital. We’re heading to the Royal Estate, his estate.”

Althea attempted to sit up. She could sense they were in motion. She looked around. Inside, soft blankets, pillows, and fur throws filled the space. It was clearly not a prison. She was aboard a royal caravan, as indicated by the Bloodrise sigil on the cloth.

Her lips quivered. “Why did he... save me?" 

Melva bit her lip and muttered, “He marked you.”

Althea’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“When the poison started to shut down your body, he panicked. He marked you to transfer his Lycan essence into your system. It was the only way to neutralize the toxin in time,” Melva explained.

Althea gently placed her hand on her shoulder at the junction where her neck meets the collarbone. Her skin was tender, and under her fingertips, she could feel the wound, subtle yet unmistakable.

She whispered, "He marked me,” her mind racing. "Did he really choose to mark me?” she questioned again, still can't believe it.

Melva nodded quickly. “And you’ve been under heavy guard since. He didn’t let anyone touch you except for me and the healer.”

Althea’s breath hitched. She stared down at her hands, trembling. Marked. She was claimed. 

Her thoughts remained as the caravan slowed down. Voices outside called orders, and tents rustled as warriors began setting up for the night. 

They paused deep within the forest. Melva carefully assisted Althea in getting up. “Let’s get you some fresh air, My Lady. You’ve been confined for days.”

Althea carefully stepped out of the caravan, her muscles tense yet thankful for the stretch. Melva joined her and handed her a fur cloak. Then she paused briefly before leaning in and softly briefing her. 

“The Alpha King’s loyal men are key. Focus on his Beta and Gamma. The tall, broad man with white streaks in his hair? That’s Osman, his Beta. He tends to be more approachable and... gentler than others. People mention he was the King’s closest confidant before Alpha King Gavriel ascended the throne. Gamma Simon is in charge of coordinating the scouting teams, but he appears moody." 

Melva glanced around. "And the others? Mostly quiet, obedient, and detached. They don’t speak unless spoken to. They’re wary of you.”

Althea nodded slowly, taking it all in. “Because of who I am.”

“Because of what you might mean to the Alpha King too,” Melva corrected gently.

Before Althea could ask, she sensed it… the presence of someone watching. Her eyes quickly lifted.

Across the clearing, surrounded by the dimming glow of firelight, stood Gavriel. He was dressed in black riding leathers, his dark cloak unfastened and billowing slightly in the wind. His eyes were locked onto her - steady, unreadable, intense. 

As usual, she couldn’t penetrate his mind. Then, gradually, he began walking toward her.

Melva stiffened beside her but bowed her head respectfully as Gavriel approached.

“How are you feeling?” Gavriel asked, his voice steady but gentle.

Althea straightened, clutching her cloak more tightly. “Better.”

He observed her for a moment longer, his face showing no emotion. Then he shifted his gaze to Melva. “She stays with me tonight. Prepare her in my tent.”

Melva’s eyes widened. “Y-Your Majesty?”

“She stays with me tonight,” he repeated. And just like that, he turned and strode back into the heart of the camp.

Althea’s stomach twisted as she watched Gavriel walk away. His words echoed in her ears. ‘She stays with me tonight.’

She took a deep breath. The idea of the Alpha King finally claiming her tonight made her nervous. Her heart raced, and her hands grew cold. It was bound to happen eventually, but now that it might be tonight, she wasn’t sure if she was ready.

Althea turned to Melva, and without meaning to, she read her thoughts while staring into her eyes.

‘Will he be intimate with Althea tonight? What if her body can’t handle it? I should prepare her, but… oh, goodness… how can an unmarried woman like me - someone who’s never even been with a man - explain that to her?’

Althea closed her eyes and raised a hand to her temple, her breath faltering. A dull ache spread across her skull. Her energy was still too low and tapping into people’s minds now… it drained her faster than she expected.

“My Lady?” Melva’s voice cut through the haze, gentle but filled with worry. “Are you alright?”

Althea nodded slowly. “Yes. Just… a little tired.”

Melva quickly moved to support her by the arm. “You haven’t even eaten properly today. Come, let’s get you something warm before…” She hesitated, glancing toward the direction of the Alpha King’s tent.

Althea knew what she meant. Before Gavriel called for her again.

“Alright,” she murmured, steadying her breath. “Just something small.”

Melva slipped an arm around her and quietly guided her back to the Alpha King’s tent. Once inside, she made sure Althea ate something first, pushing a warm plate toward her until she finished at least half of it. After that, Melva moved with quiet urgency, gathering clothes, checking supplies, and preparing Althea for what was coming next.

“Just… make sure to please him, My Lady,” Melva whispered, gently combing through Althea’s long hair. “I mean, do what he wants, but try to take some control. That’s what I’ve heard… if you can guide things a bit, it won’t be so bad.”

Althea stayed quiet, listening.

“It’ll hurt at first,” Melva continued, her voice low, “since it’s your first time. But they say it gets easier after. You just have to bear with it. Remember, he marked you. That’s your leverage now. The Mate Bond is strong. Even if the Alpha King despises your bloodline… he won’t be able to harm you.”

Althea turned to her with a small, reassuring smile and took her hand.

“Don’t worry too much, Melva,” she said softly. “I’ll be fine.”

Just as Melva placed the final pin in Althea’s hair, the tent flap lifted. Gavriel stepped inside.

Melva quickly stood and lowered her head. “Your Majesty-”

“You’re dismissed,” Gavriel said flatly, not sparing her a glance.

Melva hesitated only for a moment, eyes flicking toward Althea in silent worry, then dipped into a low bow before slipping out of the tent.

The silence stretched between them. Althea remained seated, spine straight, hands resting on her lap as she tried to control her breathing.

Gavriel removed his cloak and placed it over the small table beside the bed. Then, without looking at her, he spoke again.

“I’ll take a bath.”

Her stomach tightened.

He turned to face her, his eyes sharp beneath the flickering light of the tent’s lanterns. 

“Undress me.”