“Hey, hey, you need to stop or you’ll fall and hurt yourself!” he called out.
I was already right at the edge. I could see it clearly now, my body slamming against the cold marble floor. A deep, welcoming darkness would swallow me whole, and I’d finally, finally be free.
Taking a steady breath, I allowed my weight to tip forward, feeling the thin air rush against my battered body as gravity pulled me down. For a fleeting second, I cherished the wisp of breeze that kissed my skin.
Warmth.
Unexpected, engulfing warmth.
Instead of the cold, merciless ground, I crashed into something solid. I found myself snuggling deeper without thought, instinctively seeking the comfort that evaded me for so long. Ah, yes, I thought deliriously. This must be death’s embrace.
But then I rubbed my face against a hard, muscled chest, and a deep, steady heartbeat thudded against my ear.
Muscles?
Heartbeat?
I snapped my eyes open as my mind scrambled to piece together the betrayal of my senses. Instead of the cold hand of death, I was staring up into those same molten, warm eyes, eyes that could melt the fiercest ice, eyes that should have offered comfort. But to me, they were a curse.
That warmth, that tenderness… It was all a lie. It always was. Today, they look at you like you are the center of their universe. Tomorrow, they toss you away like a forgotten burden.
Panic clawed its way up my throat. I shoved weakly against him, but it was useless.
He stood slowly and gently laid me back onto the bed.
He let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. Then, from his pocket, he pulled out a phone, and pressed a few buttons with quick, practiced ease. He placed it to his ear.
“I need the royal physician and his team in my room right now,” he said into the receiver.
He slipped the device away.
Royal physician? My mind whirred, confused and overwhelmed. This is his room?
None of it made sense. Why would someone like him, a supreme alpha, a king bother with me? Why go to such ridiculous lengths?
He caged me in with his arms, leaning down until our faces were so close I could feel the heat of his breath fanning over my skin. His forehead nearly brushed mine as he bowed his head low.
Then, his gaze lifted and found mine. I felt something sharp and unfamiliar twist painfully in my chest.
“This is all my fault,” he whispered, brokenly. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t search harder.”
Before I could even attempt to understand, he dropped his head onto my lap.
I froze.
Every part of me stiffened as he rested there, his broad shoulders trembled faintly.
He looked devastated.
Genuinely, utterly, soul-crushingly devastated.
But why?
Why would a king, a supreme alpha, feel that way over me? A nobody, broken, and discarded thing. Why would he care?
Nothing made sense anymore.
Was this real, or had I finally descended so deeply into madness that my mind crafted this elaborate torture for me?
A sharp knock shattered the heavy silence. My gaze snapped to the door.
“Come in,” Sargis called out.
The door swung open with a gust of cool air.
A man entered first, older, graying at the temples, with a large leather briefcase in one hand and a stethoscope slung around his neck. Behind him came three others, two women and one man all dressed in teal scrubs, and they lugged their own medical kits.
Behind them, a mountain of a man stepped into the room. He was towering, and his muscles strained against the dark fabric of his clothes. His hair was pulled back into a high, neat ponytail, showcasing a scar that ran along his jaw. His hazel eyes glinted under the light like polished amber.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he dropped his head respectfully.
“Supreme Alpha,” he murmured.
Sargis stood fully upright now.
“Lupercus,” he acknowledged with a nod.
The medical team behind the giant bowed low as one.
“Supreme Alpha,” they chorused.
And there I sat, trembling, utterly stunned beyond belief.
What the actual fuck was happening?
SARGIS’ POV
I stood there helplessly as the royal physician and his team tried to coax her into letting them examine her.
But she refused.
She curled in on herself, pressing her small palms tightly over her ears, rocking back and forth as if she could block out the world itself. The sight of it shattered something inside me. What had she been through to react this way? What kind of hell had she survived to flinch from kindness, to see even gentle hands as threats? What crime had she committed, if any that warranted such cruelty?
I dragged my fingers through my hair in frustration, and a heavy sigh escaped my lips.
If only I hadn’t dismissed searching downtown… If only I hadn’t stubbornly assumed she’d be anywhere but there… Would I have found her sooner? Would she have been spared some of this agony?
The guilt gnawed at my insides like a merciless beast.
At least she was completely conscious now, unlike yesterday, when I carried her back to the palace. She had been unconscious, barely breathing, and a ghost of a girl she should have been.
I remembered lowering her gently into the warm water of the bath, careful not to jostle her. I had wanted so badly to cleanse her myself, to care for her the way she deserved.
But the thought of touching her, of stripping away even more of her autonomy while she was defenseless, made me sick. I would not violate her further, even unintentionally.
So I had called for three of my most trusted female staff members, ordering them to tend to her with the utmost respect and tenderness.
When they dressed her in one of my hoodies, because she was too tiny to fit into anything else, I caught glimpses of her scars. So many of them running like rivers from her toes to her mid-thighs, marking every inch of her pale skin like cruel tattoos.
Her eyes, when they finally fluttered open briefly, were hollow. Devoid of the light every living being should possess. Her skin was sallow, almost translucent under the soft lighting, and her frame was so gaunt I feared she might snap in two from the weight of a single breath.
And the rage…
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