Lycan King's Regret: Punished The Wrong Daughter novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18: 18- The Collar

Arabella Toussaint.

When I woke up, the beast was gone. For a few seconds, I remained lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

Had I been dreaming about him? Who was he? What if he got caught by someone?

And then I sat up straight. What if he is the beast of someone influential? Goddess. Why didn’t I think about it?

But who? A Lycan chef? A warrior?

After breakfast, Helena handed me a large basket, "Farm duty."

I nodded while holding the basket. The morning air felt nice as I made my way towards the royal vegetable fields.

That was when I saw her. The queen. She stood beneath a marble archway, watching me. And the look on her face...

It immediately made my stomach drop in fear. I lowered my head and tried walking past her on my knees. Big mistake.

"Stop!"

Her sharp voice echoed through the courtyard. I gulped and slowly turned around, only to find her glaring at me.

"How dare you walk past me without paying any respect?"

I quickly bowed in panic, "I apologize, Your Majesty."

But her expression? It didn’t soften; instead, she looked angrier.

"You pathetic leech!" she hissed, stepping closer, "Aren’t you getting quite bold lately?"

I did what I was supposed to do in such situations. Staying silent.

"Do you think my son protecting you means anything?"

Protecting? By kicking me with his boots? Is that how royals protect?

"Your Highness. There must be some misunderstanding... I ..."

"Silence!" she screamed, making me flinch. Her hand shot towards my neck as her fingers wrapped around my electric collar. An odd excitement flashed in her eyes.

"Be careful, slave," her voice turned gentle as her thumb brushed over the device, "If you don’t learn manners, I’ll teach you the hard way."

Before I could utter another apology, her hand struck my face. Pain exploded across my cheek, making me crash onto the ground. My head struck the hard floor. For a moment, my vision blurred. However, I could still see her smiling at me.

But then her evil smile was replaced by a frown. She crouched beside me as her fingers grabbed my chin, "What the hell!" she muttered as she turned my face left and then right. Her confusion seemed to deepen, "Didn’t my son injure you yesterday, you wolfless whore!"

My heart skipped a beat. Did she just call me a whore?

And what was she even talking about?

Her eyes narrowed. "You had bruises on your face and hands. Where are they?"

Cold dread washed over me. She was right.

Instinctively, my hand rose to my cheek, which was supposed to be swollen, and then I turned my hand to examine it.

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