The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81: Eighty One

Lucien

Seven days. She stayed seven days, dressed as a maid, blending seamlessly into my castle. She was in the kitchens, thick as thieves with the rest of the help. She was in the revelries, drawing more attention and trouble than any noble woman in the gathering could and flirting carefree and hard enough to get the clothes off the backs of both men and women. She was in the stables, tending my horses. She was amongst my personal maids, helping me get dressed for the day. She was fucking everywhere.

And at night, she’d fall asleep on my couch, a book fell over her face, silky mane scattered about and wearing nothing but another one of my shirts. And she never picked the regular ones. She wore my most astounding pair and used my oils, my scents, my everything. She was worse than Evadne. At least, with my cousin, I could express my irritation.

If I so much as scowled at her, she would giggle and kiss both my cheeks soundly. Or walk about naked in my chambers until I ran from it.

And so it happened that for those seven days, I didn’t think of Ilya as much as I should have. And it frightened me.

It was on the eighth night she joined me on the terrace where I overlooked the courtyard and said, "I’m leaving."

I didn’t turn around. "I do not assume you need my permission to go and come as you please. Leave, and do not darken my door again."

I was antsy. Itchy. Hungry. Tired. And very drunk. She’d succeeded in crawling under my skin. I couldn’t very well sleep in my chambers anymore, not when it was covered in her scent. I thought I’d be relieved to hear her say those words, but all it did was invigorate my temper.

Distracted, I did not hear her move until her hands closed around my wrist. The touch physically burned, my head swimming with images that would torment me when she was gone. That had been tormenting me for ages. "Don’t fucking touch me."

I saw then that she was dressed to leave. I didn’t know whose leathers she had stolen, but I could very well see that she had, once more, stolen my pouch of gold. She wasn’t even trying to hide that she had taken from me again.

Her eyes held mine and I saw why she came to find me. Not to say goodbye, but to strip my mind of her again. The goblet in my gasp crushes to fine pieces of dust and I bared my teeth in her face. "The last time had been a fluke. I was taken by surprise. If you so much as try to slip into my head again and alter my thoughts, I will kill you."

Lyra’s lips pressed thin. "If I do not, you will look for me. And I do not yet wish to be found."

And just like that, her pupils started to expand. The fuck not.

My hand caught her throat, crushing her windpipe and I twisted, holding her over the edge of the railing so precariously high, the fall wouldn’t be pretty if I *mistakenly* dropped her. "Do not vex me, Lyra. You are one step closer to a rather watery grave."

Her nails dragged against my hand, and she didn’t try to dislodge my grip or fight it as she dangled from my grasp. Instead, her eyes glowed with unholy light as she rasped, "My Prince."

I stiffened, the very air halting at the term of endearment, the tone. I brought her back over the edge, her face now so close to mine that I caught the tiny silver flecks in them. "What did you call me?"

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