Vivian
Before Oregon could say anything, I rose to my feet. "I've suddenly lost my appetite," I said, my voice heavy with sadness. "I should go to bed - I'm feeling sleepy." Without another word, I left the two of them and headed for my room.
As I walked away, I could feel the chef's eyes on me, his smug smirk evident even without looking back. I hated him for his smugness, and for the role he'd played in ruining my night. With my appetite gone, all I wanted to do was sleep.
I returned to the bedroom, laid down on the bed, and closed my eyes. Sleep came swiftly, and I was soon lost in a deep slumber.
The next morning, the harsh sound of an alarm jolted me awake. I hadn't heard an alarm in what felt like ages - ever since I'd been living in the dungeon at Silver moon pack.
My eyes fluttered open, and I turned in bed, expecting to see Oregon next to me. But he was nowhere to be found. I recalled the previous night's events and let out a heavy sigh.
I stood up and surveyed the room. Where was he? I thought, my heart starting to race.
Just as I was about to check the other rooms, the door opened. I rushed towards it, expecting to see Oregon and talk to him.
My smile faded, however, when I saw a stately, elegantly dressed older woman on the other side of the door.
She looked me up and down, confusion written across her face. When her gaze landed on my face, she studied me for a moment. I simply gawked at her, curious as to who she was. I could tell by her expensive dress and demeanor that she was someone of importance. So, out of respect, I bowed my head.
"Who are you?" she asked when our eyes met.
"I'm Vivian…" I said with a smile.
"I don't care about your name," she said, an arrogant air about her. She swiped her hand through the air, as though brushing my words away.
"I want to know who you are," she insisted.
"Oh… I'm…" I stopped short, remembering how Oregon had denied my claim the night before.
I decided it was best not to mention being the Lycan King's breeder.
"Hey, have you suddenly gone mute?" she asked. I shook my head, avoiding her gaze.
"Then speak!" she commanded. "Who are you? A servant or something? I don't recall ever seeing you around here."
"You don't need to know who she is, Mother," Oregon said in a low voice.
I turned to find him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his hair damp and curling against his forehead. He was dripping wet, with water running down his naked torso. My cheeks flushed as I tried not to stare.
I swallowed hard as I took in the sight of his bare chest. His toned muscles and firm abs were absolutely mesmerizing. A white towel was wrapped around his waist, and another small one hung from the nape of his neck. He removed the smaller towel and dabbed at his wet face.
"I see you're awake," he said, his voice smooth and deep.
I nodded, my gaze still fixed on him. His body seemed to be glowing, and his face was radiant. He was truly a vision of perfection, like a Greek god come to life.
But then I thought I recognized him from somewhere, though I wasn't quite sure where. I shook my head, deciding it was just my imagination.
"Who is she, son?" the woman asked, hurrying over to Oregon's side.
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