Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Ophelia shook her head. That wasn't the issue. Her lips trembled at the thought of mentioning it to him. How was she supposed to tell him that she lacked the pride and confidence of an Eves? Who was going to tell him the truth of her legitimacy? Not to mention, her initial status in the auction house?

Killorn didn't seem to notice her distress. "You can take charge of all of my estates, not just this one."

Just how many houses did he have? Did he inherit them all when he has slain his father? Her head began to spin, for she remembered he wasn't this wealthy the first time she met him. In fact, he had been a neglected son of a Duke… At the time, she was six, and he was twelve.

Killorn continued in a solemn voice that left no room for arguments. "It is your duty as Lady of the Estate to manage the affairs in my absence."

Ophelia was startled at his words. Her relief was suddenly gone. Her heart pumped against her chest in fear. Was he going to be gone often? She clutched his shirt tightly and stared at him with fear. She didn't want him to go. What if he had to leave for another battle? What if… he truly never returned home?

"W-will you be g-gone often?" Ophelia asked.

"I never want to part from you, my lovely wife," Killorn murmured. "You are my only destination home, you must know that?"

"B-but what if one d-day you never return?" Ophelia begged.

"Do you wish for me not to?" Killorn returned.

"N-no!" Ophelia shouted. "I-I want you back in o-one piece."

Killorn raised a brow. Was his wife concerned about him? He was touched, but also humored. What could a little lady like her do to protect him?

"I-I heard you're leaving," Opelia stammered out. "A-are you…?"

"You overhead us." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He knew she was eavesdropping, but he didn't seem bothered. Instead, his eyes flickered with disapproval and his lips twisted into a frown.

Ophelia's heart froze. His handsome features were marred with disappointment.

"I-I…" she was unable to continue on.

"Everest went back, just now. He can never stay put in one place. I'm leaving in two days. You shouldn't worry about it," Killorn stated. "Focus on yourself."

Killorn brushed his hand upon her throat. She stifled a gasp, her lashes fluttering whilst she glanced downwards. His thumb caressed her vocal cords.

"And I will find you a doctor soon," Killorn suddenly said. "One that can help you with your speaking."

Ophelia's heart fell. He thought she was some broken woman. Her lips trembled, she couldn't even speak her concern. That was how bad her stutter had gotten. Glancing at him with shame towards herself, she wore a slight grimace.

"Don't look at me like that. You know my duty is to the empire." Killorn saw her dejected features and frowned.

Ophelia blinked. That was not what she meant. "D-do you think I'm defected?"

"If you were, I wouldn't have bedded you," Killorn deadpanned. "You are perfect as you are, Ophelia, but I see there are psychological wounds yet to heal. The auction house worsened your stammer, meaning the underlying issue is not physical injuries, but here."

Killorn gently tapped her neck. "I will help you fix it, so you can express yourself as you please."

Ophelia softly blinked. Matriarch Eves had always resorted to hiding her from society, so she didn't shame their family. Instead of doing that, Killorn opted to help her. She felt her heart skip.

Instead of continuing his explanation, Killorn pulled her in the direction of the bed. He heard her loud gulp, her feet slightly digging into the plush floor.

"Why are you hesitating?" Killorn insisted, giving her a rough tug. She stumbled forward, but he immediately caught her. He didn't intend on letting the same mistake happen.

"T-the room i-is nice…"

"You said the same thing about the castle."

Ophelia bit her bottom lips and shamefully glanced to the side. She wanted to tell him the truth. It was on the tip of her tongue, but impossible to be uttered. She wasn't well-educated. Large words were difficult for her to pronounce. She didn't know much about adjectives and had the vocabulary of a commoner.

"I-I mean i-it."

Ophelia took in the enormous bedroom. She saw three sets of doors, placed in different walls. She assumed one of them must've led to a closet, whereas the other the bathing room, and the last a joint room for her to stay in. A wife was supposed to wait in an adjoined room, on the bed, and legs parted waiting for the heir-making.

"T-there is a sweet smell f-from the wood," Ophelia admitted. Although the polished vanity and chests were heavily painted and varnished, she still smelled remnants of… magnolia wood?

Ophelia blinked at the generosity of this place, which was much more lavish than the entirety of the castle. She could tell it was where they spent the most attention on detail with.

Ophelia stared up at the ceiling, at a loss of words. She was amazed by the dome shape. When she squinted, she saw the night sky was expertly painted upon it, with stars and a large moon.

"How b-beautiful…"

Killorn couldn't tell if she was lying to make him happy, or if she actually meant it. He heard they had hired a master artist and craftsmen for this room, but compared to her, nothing could be more beautiful.

Killorn released her hand. Ophelia freely wandered around the room, her fingers sliding on every surface. He saw her gentle expression as she examined the glistening vanity with jewelry boxes. An enormous mirror sat in the corner of the room, lined with gold, and his height.

Ophelia stopped in front of the crackling fireplace, for she was touched by the sincerity of the servants. They had lit a flame for their Alpha that burned brightly.

Suddenly, she felt his large presence behind her. Her stomach tightened instinctively, even though he didn't even touch her. She let out a soft exhale, hearing the rustling of his clothes as he reached for her, but paused.

"Is this to your liking? Shall I stoke the wood?" Killorn murmured, sliding his arms across her womb. He heard her heart quicken in the adoring manner as it usually did.

Ophelia's head spun with dirty thoughts, her face turning red as a tomato, for she didn't intend it. But every time he spoke with that deep and velvety voice of his, she could barely think straight.

"I-it's perfect," Ophelia squeaked out, suddenly escaping his grasp and surprising him.

Ophelia quickly tried to finish her tour. She could feel his desire from a mile away, for his eyes burned a hole through her. She continued looking around and saw two doors, either of which could lead to a bathing room with a relieving station or an enormous closet…?

Ophelia suddenly stopped. She was at a loss for words when she reached the bed.

"I heard you liked curtains."

Ophelia blinked at his bewildering statement. Curtains hung from the bed, thick and gave ample privacy. She touched the bed, finding ancient scriptures on the metal framing. Slowly, she traced over it, the words beginning to look familiar to her, but she couldn't tell from where. It was strange, for the language was something she had never come across.

"They're magic glyphs. Do you understand it?" Killorn approached her, but he paused.

Ophelia's purple eyes turned a deep amethyst, her lips moving. He heard her mutter a language he didn't recognize.

"Ophelia."

Ophelia jolted. She turned towards him and naively blinked. He narrowed his gaze into slits. What the hell was that?

"It's written in an ancient language. Were you reading it?" Killorn asked in disbelief.

Killorn saw her hair had lightened a bit, but the minute she faced him, it went back to normal. He grabbed strands of it and examined her locks closely.

Nothing. For a split second, he could've sworn her hair had glowed. He released the silver threads, and continued to watch over her. Back in the sunny empire, she was a light blond. Now, the strands were silver with a hint of purple. How intriguing.

"W-why is the words d-drawn on the b-bed?"

"Blessings for an heir."

Ophelia's face grew hot. She shamefully glanced to the side and continued examining the bed. It was a beautiful one, with canopy curtains that could be drawn shut for privacy. The more she looked around the room, the harder in love she fell with it.

A fireplace burned in the wall directly facing the bed, with large-arched windows greeting them on either ends of the bed. There were cushions on the window sill to sit and read, whereas the other end of the room had double doors that led to a balcony.

She found it interesting that the enormous mirror was adjacent to the bed—one could see their sleeping reflection if they looked closely.

'I wonder why.' Ophelia continued glancing around. When she pressed her hand upon the bed, she found the mattress to be bouncy, yet firm. Thick layers of wool blankets rested upon it, with a fur comforter, and lots of fluffy pillows.

"If you're so curious about the bed, let's give it a try." Killorn brushed his lips upon her ears. He licked a trail to her neck, causing her to shudder. He couldn't help, but want to taste her.

Not to mention, she was no longer smelling like him. He'd need to work hard to ensure his scent lingered on her. Softly, he pressed his warm mouth upon the nape of her neck. She gasped when he bit the spot, sinking his teeth until it left a mark.

"M-my lord…"

"Call me that one more time and I'll keep you bedridden for the entire week in harsher ways than you'd think."

Ophelia's mind was dazed with his obscenity. "W-we won't be making love?"

"No."

Ophelia's lips trembled. She couldn't imagine what the difference was, but assumed he would be much more merciless. He snaked an arm around her stomach and caged her against his body.

"Heed my advice well, Ophelia. There are many surfaces in this room, and I'd rather not destroy it during our sessions if you cross me."

Ophelia's heart skipped. She wondered just how rough he could be. She heard a certain type of men loved to tie their women up with leather belts and whip them until they bled. Her thighs trembled at the thought.

"A-are you g-going to hurt me i-if I do?"

Killorn's gaze darkened. He slid a hand towards her breast, causing her to gasp. She grabbed his wrist, but he gave his property a soft squeeze.

Ophelia shivered when he brushed his warm breath near her ears. The sensation was ticklish. A familiar heat built near her stomach. She was too intoxicated by everything he did.

"Do you want me to, Ophelia?"

"N-never…"

"Then you are to address me by name, never by lord. Is that clear?"

Ophelia bobbed her head.

"I do this for your own good, my lovely wife."

Ophelia believed him, for she had never heard a man go to such extreme. The only thing she worried about was her heart. Her traitorous organ beat erratically at every word he said.

"Now, climb onto the bed, my lovely wife, so I can enjoy my feast whilst my men enjoy theirs downstairs."

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