The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86: Eighty Six

Valka

There is a considerable amount of anger shimmering down from Lucien’s side of the bond. You wouldn’t have known, not when he was laughing himself hoarse, drinking and entertaining the humans who couldn’t stop staring at him like he was some god.

I guess, in some way, he is.

But that’s not really the point.

It’s that he’s had years to master his emotions that it doesn’t show, but now, his feelings are bleeding into mine and I want to kill something.

I am not okay.

My fingers are jittery around the glass of wine. I wanted to kill Cecilia. For every touching him without his consent and having the nerve to throw it back in his face. I wanted to squeeze her flesh and bones to mash and pulp.

But I can’t. Not when the first day of the Summit begins tomorrow, after the King of Voss joins us and I need all of my wits about me, if I’m somehow supposed to infiltrate the minds of that particular company without losing my shit.

So, I lift the train of my dress and walk outside to get some of this hot air out. The crowd parts, heads bowing as a path is made for me.

"You shouldn’t be walking alone, Your Majesty," Leander says, following like a bee to honey. "We aren’t in Ebonheart. You could be attacked--"

"Remember how I knocked you out thrice in the training camp?" I ask, casting a look at him from over my shoulder. "I’m pretty sure I can handle myself."

He frowns. "But the King said--"

"Go catch some fun, Leander. Do not attach yourself to me at the hip like I am an invalid," I say dryly and take a turn through the high arched hallways, like I know where I’m going.

At some point, he retreats. I don’t stop walking until I’ve put enough distance between Lucien and I that the anger no longer suffocates me. My breaths are even out when I finally make my way through the labyrinth of unrecognisable hallways filled with obnoxious humans and wolves with less proclivity for nudity and fuckery.

It is almost jarring to find that there’s no one hidden in the corner, getting some. Or kissing. Court traditions must differ severely here.

I stop before the water fountain flanked by the statues of gods unnamed, and I toss my head back to stare at the skies, feeling lost, confused, hurt, troubled and exhausted.

This morning, I’d woken up in the clearing Lucien and I had passed the night, I had sought out the pond to wash my face. Only to yelp when I saw that my hair was blonde. And not red.

I’d woken up as Ilya, curled up on Lucien’s side like a cat seeking warmth. And it hadn’t been until I looked at my reflection that I remembered I wasn’t her.

And my nose had begun bleeding.

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