Chapter 2 Chapter 2 His Chambers
The King's Majestic form exuded raw power, his muscular, well-tanned chest gleaming with oil, every defined contour visible beneath his open Kingly robes. His piercing teal blue eyes burned with intensity as he raked his gaze over me, his full lips parted slightly, inviting, demanding attention.
His presence silenced the room one breath at a time. Traders lowered their eyes. Guards straightened. Even the man who captured me shifted uneasily, his grip tightening as if he suddenly understood he had brought something far more dangerous than cargo before the King’s throne.
I felt it then.
A pull, sharp and unmistakable—threaded through my chest, low and deep, tugging at something buried deep in my blood. My heart pounded as his gaze pierced, blue eyes locking onto me with predatory focus.
He stared as though something about me unsettled him.
As though my existence scratched at an old wound he could not name.
I swallowed hard, my body trembling, not knowing whether I stood before my executioner… or something even worse.
With a subtle nod, he summoned me closer,
“Very well, bring her closer, here,” he commanded, pointing to the foot of his throne. His voice was deep like thunder, echoing off the walls.
I was dragged forward, closer to him. My heart pounds in my chest. The King's gaze intense, I felt like he could see right through me, searching for something.
What would he want from me?
Would I be able to find help here, as my father had suggested? Or would I become just another pawn in his bloodlust sexual games? I shivered, kneeling before him. The man behind me grabbed onto my hair, jerking my head up so that the king could clearly see me.
“Speak, girl,” King Rryan said, his voice a little softer now.
“What’s your name? And what were you doing near my burnt-out village?” He watched me, waiting for my reply. I trembled at his words, too scared to speak. Tears ran down my scratched and dirty face. Why did my father tell me to come here? I felt all alone in the world that terrified me.
He watched me for more than an hour, as others were brought forth, also bound with ropes, some he took in and others he passed on. I didn’t want to be passed, I remembered the one who captured me .. his words…he would become my master.
When he looked back at me, I tried to speak, but my voice was gone; I had not had water in a very long time. My hand flew to my throat, and he saw it. I swallowed hard, and it hurt. My eyes pleaded for him to have mercy.
I watched him sniff the air and smile. That was the first time I saw his fangs.
That scent! He would recognize it anywhere, Spicy cinnamon, with a hint of sandalwood. Mud and blood could not mask it. He Knew!
“Have this one brought to my chambers and clean her up!” He instructed his Royal Guard, Valin, and maid Lydia. They quickly untied my hands and feet from the ropes that bound me. They tried to help me walk, but when he saw that I was hurt severely, he ordered Valin to carry me.
King Rryan sensed it the moment she was brought near him; there was something different about her.
Fear clung to her, sharp and untouched, her scent unspoiled by another's claim. Virgins were rare in these parts of the world, but this one, this one was His!
He knew; she felt familiar. Her face stirred an ache he had buried long ago, the ghost of someone he once loved and believed, lost.
As Valin carried me, my body ached, my cuts burned, still I felt a mix of emotions. Fear, uncertainty, and relief that I had been chosen to stay. The king's chambers were lavish, with purple and black velvet drapes framing a massive four-poster bed, its canopy heavy with shadow and silk. The air smelled of incense and old power.
His maid, Lydia, helped me into a nearby dressing room. Her hands were gentle as she removed my blood-soaked, muddy clothing carefully.
“Oh, my,” she murmured softly, as she took in my wounds.
She summoned the royal healer, Kayla, to come quickly.
Kayla was not just a healer; she was also the apprentice to the king's sorcerer.
“Why is this one so important to the king?” she asked Lydia quietly, as she worked.
“He never has captives brought up to his chambers.” She scoffed.
She used her magic, and what she saw frightened her, making her go pale. She quickly healed me and left the room, mumbling about ‘betrothal and mate bonds.’ She left without another word.
Lydia helped me into a warm bath. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the soapy water seep into my skin. I winced as Lydia cleaned my wounds, her touch gentle but firm. She took her time caressing me with the soapy towel and even washed my hair. I sank beneath the surface with a shudder, the heat of the water easing muscles that were knotted with pain. I closed my eyes as she washed me.
When her hands strayed lower, I tensed and quickly closed my legs together. No one had ever touched me there. Not like that.
Lydia smiled. “It needs to be clean, child,” she said as she parted my legs once more. “For healing and what comes next.” Her words lingered in the scented steam of the bath, as the warm water lapped softly around me. I relaxed. Promise or warning, I could not tell; her words were smooth like promises of safety.
After my bath, Lydia dressed me in a soft, clean white velvet nightgown that hugged my curves and led me back into the King’s bedchambers.
King Rryan sat in the high-backed chair next to his bed. He watched me with an intensity that made me blush. My nipples became hard, poking out, and my nightgown seemed to display them proudly.
My hair was still very wet, my soft black curls cascaded down my back to my waist. I felt clean for the first time in days, he smiled.
“So Syla,” he said smoothly, folding his hands in front of his face. “You’re a mystery to me. Where are you from?”
How did he know my name? I tried to speak, but my voice was still hoarse from dehydration.
Lydia offered me a glass of water, I sipped it gratefully.
“I-I am from Traktor," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“My Father used to be part of your Royal Guard, William Larko.” I was hoping he would remember him.
King Rryan’s expression changed, a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
“Traykor?” he repeated.
“And your father was William?” so that's where he's been hiding her, his eyes narrowed.
“Y-yes, “I whispered.
“With his last breath, He told me to come to you, but that man chased me down and took me, while I was on my way here.”
He turned to Valin, his eyes narrowing in anger, “Have the one who sold her to me brought back and locked in my dungeon.” Valin nodded and rushed away.