Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 133

ADELE’S POV

I didn’t plan to crawl across the bed like some desperate, starving woman. But four months of being ignored by your own mate does things to your pride. It bends it.

Twists it. Breaks it in places you didn’t know could break.

The silk nightgown Queen Emilia gifted me slid over my thighs like water as I moved across the mattress. The fabric was soft, expensive, the color a deep wine red that made my skin look warmer, richer. I chose it on purpose tonight. I wanted to feel beautiful. I wanted him to see me.

But Lucien didn’t look.

He sat at the end of the bed, eyes glued to his laptop, the blue glow washing across his sharp cheekbones. His shoulders were tense, his jaw locked. He always looked Like this now-coiled, distant, unreachable.

Four months together. Four months of sleeping in the same house. Four months of telling everyone we were mates…And not once had he touched me.

Not once had his lips marked my skin. Not once had he even tried.

The bond hummed weakly between us-alive, but starving. Like me.

I reached him slowly, my breath unsteady as I trailed my fingers up his leg. His thigh tightened beneath my touch.

He felt me—of course he did. Our bond made sure of it.

Little sparks ran under my fingertips, a reminder of what could be if he would just…choose me.

I let my hand drift higher. Then higher. And finally, I pressed my palm gently against the shape of him through his shorts.

He inhaled sharply.

But his eyes… never left the screen.

Something inside me twisted.

Irubbed him slowly through the fabric, my pulse racing,

– my entire body warm with a mixture of desire and humiliation. I leaned in close, letting my hair fall over my shoulder, letting him feel my breath against his neck.

“Lucien…” I whispered, letting his name curl around my tongue like a plea and a promise.

Nothing.

He didn’t even flinch.

Heat rushed to my face-anger, embarrassment, pain all at once. The humiliation burned so hot I thought it might set the silk on fire.

So I did the only thing my wounded pride could think of:

I slapped the damn laptop shut.The sound cracked through the room like a whip.

“Lucien, what is wrong with you?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “I’m your mate, and you’re ignoring me.”

His whole body tensed. For a moment he didn’t look at me he didn’t dare. Then he groaned, dragging his hand through his hair in pure frustration.

He looked tired. Worn. Something shadowy flickered in his eyes, something I couldn’t name. Something I couldn’t reach.

Finally..finally…he looked at me.

“I’m working,” he muttered.

I let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Really? You’ve been ‘working’ for four months?”

His jaw clenched.

I pushed myself onto my knees, the nightgown sliding dangerously high, but I didn’t adjust it. I wanted him to see me. Wanted him to feel this. Wanted him to stop pretending I was invisible.

“Lucien,” I continued, voice softer but no less broken,” we’ve been together for four months and you won’t touch me. You won’t even mark me. You just want the title of claiming me without actually claiming me.”

His gaze flicked away, and pain flared through the bond Like a knife. He felt something. Guilt? Fear? Shame?”You just want a claim over me,” I said quietly, “but you don’t want me. Not really.”

“That’s not true.” His voice came out low, strained.

“Then what is it?” I asked, folding my arms tightly over my chest. “What’s stopping you from touching me?”

“Lucien,” I whispered. “Please.”

He paused.

Just paused. Not a word. Not a glance.

And then…

He walked out.

The door closed behind him. Softly. Too softly.

Somehow that hurtmore than if he had slammed it.For a long moment I just stared at the door, my breath stuck in my throat. I waited. I hoped. I prayed he’d come back. That he’d say something-anything-to make this ache loosen inside me.

But nothing happened.

The silence pressed down on me so hard tears finally broke free.

My knees gave out, and I sank onto the floor. The cold wood met my bare skin, but I barely felt it. I pulled my legs to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and pressed my forehead to my knees.

The bond pulsed weakly-rejected, confused, hurting.

Just like me.

“What are you doing to me, Lucien?” I whispered into the empty room.

My voice trebled. My heart ached. And I felt so very, very alone.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

The words cracked in the quiet.

And that…was the only answer I had.