Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 38

I could still feel his presence long after he left but I couldn’t bring myself to move. I just stood there, clutching the blanket to my chest like it was armor. My breaths came shallow and uneven, the air in the room feeling too thick, too heavy with his lingering presence.

“Then I’ll just have to teach you what it truly means to be mine.’

His words replayed in my head, over and over, until they became a pulse, throbbing with every beat of my heart. A shiver ran down my spine. Fear, yes-but not only fear. Something darker and more dangerous twisted beneath it.

Resolve.

I wasn’t going to let him break me. Not like the others. Not like all those women who had been whispered about, who had come before me only to die in his arms. If I couldn’t run-if the chains of this palace were too strong-then I would have to play another game.

His game.

Sweet. Submissive. Willing.

I would give him the illusion of surrender while sharpening my claws in silence. And when the right moment came, when he least expected it, I’d strike.

I slipped out of bed, the ache in my wrists and ankles flaring at the movement. Bruises were already blooming across my skin, the ghost of his chains and touch still carved into me. I stumbled toward the tall mirror standing against the wall.

The reflection that stared back at me looked like a stranger. My hair tangled and wild, my skin marked, my eyes swollen and rimmed red from exhaustion. A prisoner. That’s what I looked like.

But if I wanted to survive, I couldn’t let myself look like prey. I had to look like something else. Someone else.

A queen.

Straightening my spine, I dragged a hand through my hair and lifted my chin. My pulse was still racing, but I whispered to the reflection anyway, forcing the words through trembling lips.

“If he wants to believe he owns me… then let him. Because the moment he forgets what I’m capable of, that’s when I’ll strike.” 1 For the first time since I’d been dragged into this cursed palace, a spark flickered inside me. Not hope exactly. Something colder. Sharper.

Determination.

I gathered the blanket tighter around me and walked to the door. My fingers curled around the iron handle, twisting. It didn’t budge. Locked. Of course.

Frustration burned in my chest, and I pounded on the wood with my fist. “Guard!” My voice rang through the silence. “I want to see the King!”

Nothing.

I knocked again, harder this time, ignoring the sting in my knuckles. “Do you hear me? I said I want to see him!”

Silence.

A groan of annoyance slipped from my throat, and I spun away from the door, storming toward the tall windows. The blanket dragged against the marble floor as I yanked the heavy drapes aside. Sunlight spilled in, bright and mocking, spilling across the room like a reminder that outside these walls, the world was still moving. Free. Alive.

And here I was-caged.

I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, staring out at the sprawling palace grounds. Guards patrolled, their presence a constant reminder that escape wasn’t just unlikely-it was impossible.

The blanket slid lower on my shoulders, but I clutched it back up, refusing to let even the walls of this room see me vulnerable. If the King thought I was broken, then maybe he’d grow careless.

The sound of the lock clicking behind me froze me in place.

Slowly, I turned.

He stood in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the frame, his expression unreadable. The air shifted instantly, heavy, as if his presence alone swallowed the oxygen. 1

For a heartbeat, neither of us spoke.

Then I lifted my chin, forced my voice steady, and said the words I never thought would pass my lips.

“I accept your offer.”

His eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving mine.

“I’ll give you a son,” I continued, my heart pounding so hard I thought he might hear it. “But only on one condition.”

He said nothing. Only stared, like a predator circling its prey, waiting for the slightest misstep.

“You won’t treat me like a prisoner.”

“Only if you don’t try to run away again.” He said,

“I mean it,” I pressed, forcing my voice firm though my knees trembled. “Being with you means I’m going to die. Forgive me if I don’t want to be just another woman who ends up buried because she shared your bed.”

Something dark flashed in his eyes, quick as lightning but impossible to miss. His jaw tightened, his control strained.

“You’re not going to die.”

“How do you know that?” I demanded, my voice rising despite the warning in his gaze. “When every woman you’ve ever touched has died, how can you stand there and tell me I’ll be any different?”

His silence was deafening. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t answer.

I swallowed, my throat dry, but I pushed harder. I had to. “And what if I find my mate?” The words cracked the air between us like a whip. “Will you stop him from taking me, too? Kill him before he even breathes my name?”

The air thickened, the edges of his composure fraying. But still-no response.

“And what if you find your mate?” I pressed again, each word sharper than the last. “Do you think she’ll smile while another woman carries your child? Do you think she’ll accept that?”

His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, something flickered there. Not rage. Not cruelty. Something rawer.

Then his lips parted, and his voice came low, steady, but edged with something that almost sounded like pain.

“That would never happen.”

“Why?” I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Why are you so sure?”

His gaze bored into mine, unyielding, dark as storm clouds ready to split the sky.

And then, with the weight of a confession he hadn’t meant to speak, he said the words that made my blood run cold.

“Because I once had a mate.”

The world tilted.

I sucked in a breath, my pulse stuttering. “You… what?”

His jaw flexed, his eyes burning with something I couldn’t name, something that terrified me more than any threat he had ever made.

“She’s fucking dead.”

For a heartbeat it felt like I didn’t hear what he just said. I blinked as I looked at him in both confusion and disbelief.

“Did you just say you had a mate?” I asked, wanting him to confirm what I just heard.

“Yes,” he said, his voice giving no emotion, it was just blank.

“And she’s dead?”

“I didn’t say it for you to question me Emilia,” He said, his voice cold and hard, filled with warning.

“But I need to-“

“Need to know what? That I wasn’t able to protect her and let those filthy rogues tear into her like she was nothing.” He spat, voice filled with rage but he did well hiding the pain.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“Let’s not talk about it, I just need you to give me a child, one who would bear my name once I’m gone.”

“What do you mean by once you’re gone?” I asked but silence fell between us as he just watched me.

“Answer me,” I said in curiosity and impatience.

“It’s not something I like to talk about Emilia,” he said as he turned away from me and started walking towards the door but I stopped him. visit j{ob{n:i:b-.c:om for more updates. “Wait,” my feet moved on their own accord before I could stop them, as I ran in front of him and opened my hands like that could stop him if he really wanted to leave.

“I need to know what I’m signing up for,” I said, my eyes searching his, but he gave nothing away.

“All you need to know is that I won’t hurt you and as long as you’re within these walls where I can protect you, you’re safe. Don’t try running, don’t try anything stupid, then we’re good.”

I wanted to argue until I knew what he’s really hiding, but I caught a look in his eyes although it was gone quickly. Talking about his dead mate was a touchy subject for him.

“I’ll send a maid to bring you something to wear, you’ll stay in my room from now on.” He said and I thought he was finally going to leave but he stopped at the door and looked at me.

“Emilia…” he whispered and I looked at him expectantly wondering what he wanted to say.