26 A Slight Surprise

**Annabel’s POV**

The feeling of having a friend in a place as cold and isolating as this was like finding a small patch of warmth in a frozen wasteland. 

But even as I replayed my conversations with Declan, I couldn’t help but wonder if his kindness was genuine or if it would lead to something I’d regret. Trust didn’t come easily to me anymore.

That night, I was pulled from sleep by the lightest touch on my cheek. My eyes flew open, my heart racing as I gasped for air. The dim light in the room illuminated a figure sitting beside me. It was the King.

I froze, my body stiffening as panic set in. His expression was unreadable, cool and indifferent, as though he hadn’t just invaded my private space. 

I sat up quickly, the thin blanket slipping down and leaving me painfully aware that I was in nothing but my underwear. I felt exposed, vulnerable.

“Your Majesty,” I murmured, bowing my head. My heart pounded so hard I feared he could hear it. 

His scent wrapped around me, intoxicating and overwhelming, stirring emotions I fought to suppress. The bond between us tugged relentlessly at my will, but I resisted it with every fiber of my being.

“Been drinking?” he asked, his tone flat, but his words sent a jolt of anxiety through me. Should I admit it? If I did, would Declan get in trouble? My throat tightened, and I stayed silent, unsure how to respond.

“I heard you spent the day with my Gamma,” he continued, his voice steady but sharp. Someone had told him. 

I didn’t know if I’d crossed some invisible line or broken an unspoken rule, so I remained quiet, holding my breath. 

He sat down beside me on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His sigh broke the silence, and he lowered his head as though in thought.

“My life isn’t as easy as you think,” he said finally, his voice carrying a heaviness I hadn’t expected. “For others, life is black and white. But for me… it’s more complicated than that.”

I stared at him, unsure what to say. Why was he telling me this? What did he expect me to do with his confession?

“I’ve thought about rejecting this bond,” he admitted, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “About setting you free. But I can’t. It’s impossible to throw away a gift like this.”

A chill ran through me at his words. He didn’t see me as a person, only as something valuable—a gift. 

My pulse quickened as his hand moved to rest on my bare thigh. His touch was warm, but it burned like fire against my skin. Without thinking, I flinched, pulling back instinctively.

His expression darkened, his brow furrowing. 

“Is my touch repulsive to you?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place—hurt? Anger?

I hesitated, unable to meet his gaze. My silence seemed to anger him more.

“Is it Declan?” he asked, his tone sharp now, and I realized I couldn’t avoid this any longer. I needed to speak. 

Gathering my courage, I took a deep breath and looked up at him. It was time to let him hear the truth, even if it meant risking everything.

"You have found me repulsive ever since I first stood before you,” I began, my voice trembling with both fear and defiance. 

“You’ve insulted me, said I smelled, and spoken to me with nothing but harshness. You’ve made it clear that I am the last person you want by your side. You didn’t want anything to do with me, and you’ve ensured I know it. So, yes, it’s natural that I flinch when you touch me.”

I met his gaze briefly, my heart racing, before continuing. “I’m not Leah, whom you parade around at functions, nor am I Michelle, who warms your bed. I…”

Before I could finish, his brows furrowed deeply, and his face twisted with confusion. “Warm my bed?” he echoed, interrupting me.

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes. She’s been warming your bed, hasn’t she?”

For a moment, he seemed genuinely shocked, his lips parting as if to deny it outright. Then he leaned back slightly, studying me. 

“Is that what she told you?” he asked, his tone colder now, sharper. I clamped my mouth shut, unwilling to confirm or deny, and he watched me with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. 

Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled—a low, humourless sound.

“So you’re jealous,” he said, his lips curling into an amused smirk.

I shook my head quickly, my denial firm. “No,” I said, but the heat in my face betrayed me.

He laughed again, this time more genuinely, as though my reaction entertained him. “If she were warming my bed,” he said, his voice laced with smug confidence, “trust me, you would know.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to know what he meant by that. Whatever he intended, it wasn’t my concern, nor did I care to understand.

His amusement faded, and his expression turned serious again. “Besides,” he added, his voice softer, “how I treat you is for your own good.”

I wanted to argue, to challenge him, but my words failed me. The air between us grew heavier, the silence stretching as his eyes lingered on me. 

Then, without warning, he began to unbutton his shirt. Panic shot through me as I watched, my breaths quickening with every button he freed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice rising slightly in alarm.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he slipped off the shirt and climbed into the bed beside me, his movements deliberate yet oddly calm. 

My heart pounded as he pulled me into his arms, the warmth of his skin igniting every nerve in my body.

“Let’s sleep,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing against my ear. “Tonight, I’m not the King, and you’re not a widowed slave fated to me.”

His words, spoken so softly, should have been comforting, but they left me feeling conflicted and vulnerable. 

I tried to ignore the tingling sensations spreading through me, the electric pull of his touch, but it was impossible. 

Onyx, my wolf, purred with satisfaction in the back of my mind, urging me to surrender to the moment.

But I couldn’t let this consume me. I couldn’t forget who he was—or who I was. This might have been a fleeting moment of tenderness, but I knew better than to hope it meant anything more. 

By morning, I was certain, everything would go back to the way it was: him being distant, indifferent, and cruel.

Still, as I lay in his arms, the warmth of his body surrounding me, I couldn’t stop the small flicker of longing that stirred within me. A flicker I knew I couldn’t afford to let grow.