The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Twenty Eight

I woke up cold, my panties drenched with warmth. My limbs spasmed uncontrollably and for a moment there, I thought I was dying.

But I’d peered down in abject horror and discovered my fingers between my legs. And my scream could have brought down the stone walls of the castle.

The guards had rushed to my door, looking for the unknown enemy that must have broken into my room and tried to kill me. But I couldn’t tell them. Not as my cheeks burned a bright red with the knowledge that I orgasmed in my sleep.

It was fucking nightmare.

Now, I peer out the window, watching the sun rays fall on the training yard outside. The movement of the wind on those silver tresses as he cleaves the wind in half with a sword as tall as I am.

The trail of sweat that runs down his bare torso painted in line after line of tattoo. I wonder what they mean. I wonder who she was.

Ilya.

I wonder if it is a coincidence that she bears the same name as the thing inside me that hasn’t reared her head since that day on the battle field. I wonder if it is a coincidence that I dreamed of her, too. Can still smell her on myself, can still remember the taste of his lips.

Mint and the underlying taste of something abominably sweet.

Luke, she had called him. Short for Lucien. The man training there in the center of his field, pursuing his parry--a prisoner from the war. One of the elite soldiers who hadn’t made it across the ridge in time. Anton, I think--with swings so hard, you would think he had a vendetta against him to cut his head off his shoulder, doesn’t look like a... Luke.

He doesn’t even look like the man in that dream. That man smiled kindly, his eyes soft and filled with hope and love as he spoke of a treaty to save his people. He had no scars. He was paler, younger, leaner, and untried.

The man below is a force of nature. The darkness to everything good. When he corners his parry, he smiles cruelly and lifts the sword high above his head. "You would make a terrible swordsman, wolf. I have no use for you."

I shut my eyes as he cuts. And cuts. The whirring of the blade reaching my ears even here. When I open my eyes again, there’s not much left of the male and the Dark King is drenched in blood, so much of it, it looks like it is a part of his skin.

His head tilts back to bask in the sun. And even as disgust and hatred churn in my stomach, I cannot help but find him dreadfully beautiful.

If I were an artist, I’d paint this moment and name him a fallen angel, right beside the body he just dissected to pieces.

Just then, he turns, his gaze locking on me all the way from below the tower, like he knew I’d been watching him all alone. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

My blood runs cold as hard eyes pin me with brimming hatred and he says to no one in particular, "Bring in the next."

Margot lounges like a queen, smoking deep from a pipe,while her dainty maid, Alfie, kneels at her feet, massaging her legs while batting lashes at me. Gods, help me. I’m not a man--don’t look at me like that.

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