The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 139

Chapter 139: One Hundred & Thirty Nine

Lucien

"Val," I say softly, my fingers reaching for her shoulder.

The sound must have startled her because she swung for me next, the bloodied edge of the wood hitting me square in the nose. "Fuck," I swear, but she swings again, nearly cracking my head in half.

Her eyes are black--no pupil, no reflection, no soul--just hunger. She stares right through me, animal and divine and terrifying... then growls at me in a language that is all animal and not human at all. Before turning back to the body, raising the stick and continuing her assault.

I think she might have just told me to stand right there and not move or she’ll kill me, in a very Lycan manner, with no words at all.

She’s in that absent place she goes when she’s overcome with rage. I understand it, the need to feed it that never quenches, and for that reason alone, I wrap my arms around her small body and crush my face to her neck. "He’s dead, Val. It’s okay."

She snarls at me, hands grasping onto that stick like her life depends on it. And with sickness churning in my stomach, I realize it must have. She thrashes against me, swinging wildly at nothing, frustration hissing out of her in small snarls. "Valka," I say again, gently, though, mildly coaxing in a tone that commands it. "Look at him."

Her lashes droop, her head lowering slightly. Her body trembles as she takes in, for the first time, what she has done to him.

I suspect he’s been dead for several minutes, if she’s used to the wood to chop him up into cookable slices. Even his little head is in pieces. And the region between his legs is particularly in dices. You could not tell his skin apart from his clothes.

"Dead," she says, voice harsh, and her body gives a small tremble as the stick clatters from her hands. "Dead," she repeats again in a small chant, as if to calm herself.

I kiss the curve of her neck softly, running fingers along her stomach in soothing circles as the tremor subsides, knowing she is one moment away from breaking.

But the break doesn’t come. Neither do the tears. Instead, she murmurs, "I’m hungry."

I blink and pull back to see her eyes and know that she is alright. But Valka swerves without warning. It’s a lurch and a pull at the same time, and I am caught completely off guard when her hands yank down my head to hers and her fangs--now healed and longer than usual--tear into my lower lip, drawing blood.

The reaction is instant. I would never quite be able to tell what it is about her that makes me hard and soft in the same breath, in two vastly different ways. Her tongue slides over the puncture, as if in apology, but the hands on my face travel, gripping the back of my head harshly as her tongue slides hotly against mine, feeding the taste of my blood and Rafael’s back to me.

The latter is so fucking disgusting, I suck it off her tongue and spit it out.

My hands find the indent of her waist and I lift her off the ground. Her legs wrap around my hip eagerly and lock tightly and I pull back just enough to murmur, "Here?"

She nods, lips trailing down my neck, and my cock swells in my pants when she grazes my pulse and sucks tenderly.

"There’s a rotting body a few feet away, Valka," I exhale hotly, fingers tightening on her backside and pressing her closer despite myself.

Beyond words or reason, she just hums with annoyance against my neck and rocks her hips against mine urgently.

A low, ragged laugh curls out of me, dark and delighted. "Sometimes, I genuinely worry you might be more deranged than I am, and that’s saying something."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify