Chapter 24

Dylan POV


I hadn't noticed how long I had been bathing for, until a small knock sounded on one of the many locked entrances of the bathroom.

"Your Grace, it is time to prepare you for the king tonight. You have been in there for over an hour." I ignored my handmaiden and continued to bathe, trying hard to block out the sound of her high pitched voice. When I didn't answer a louder knock blasted through the room, as if a cannon had gone of.

"Get out at once, his grace will not be happy if you are not ready and waiting for him." The old bitch that calls herself my dresser, was hammering on the door, ordering me to leave the room. I don't think they knew I was still in the bath tub.

Ready and waiting? She made me sound like I was a fucking object or his dinner. I'm not gonna sit or stand in his room like an ornament just waiting for him to finish work. So I stayed where I was, my skin was becoming wrinkled from the now cold water, but the thought of getting out was just too hard to bare. I was so content... maybe I should have drowned myself.

Before I could comprehend what was going on I heard a final bang on the door, the lock snapped and the old hag stood in the now broken doorway and fixed her tight skirt. Great, I forgot about the strength werewolves possessed.

She gasped immediately as she looked at my wrinkled form still sat in the water. She turned to the shower quickly and flipped it on before storming over to me, grabbing my left arm and dragging it out of the bath.

"His grace will be up here in less than 20 minutes and you aren't even washed properly." She threw me into the shower and slammed the door closed. "Get washed, the girls will prepare your beautification." My beautification? Where the fuck has she been the past 100 years.

Either way, she left absolutely no room for arguments and stayed staring at my naked form with pure hatred in her irises. So I quickly washed my hair, and lathered some soap over my body, rinsing it all off before stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around my body. I was grabbed once again and marched to the bedroom of my nightmares where I was once more subjected to a full body waxing, and a small haircut. My hair was left dry and naturally wavy, while my royal dresser placed a very see through red undergarment dress and a thong which looked like a piece of string on the end of the bed.

"Get dressed now! His grace is already in his room." Once again there was no room of arguments as she left the room, my bedroom door was slammed closed and I sighed relishing in the quiet. I wasn't sure what to do, so I ended up just staring at the bed for a good 5 minutes. Banging on the door brought me out of my inner spiral and with a thick gulp, I slipped the undergarment on, and sat on the end the of my bed. My sight never leaving the floor.

I had absolutely no intention of looking at myself in the mirror again. I hated clothes like this. Men never dressed up for women in bed, and yet, here I was, basically a wrapped present that was just waiting to be ripped open and played with. It made me sick!

He locked me up for a month, I was starving, I was beaten and most of all I was on my way to becoming completely broken, and he expected me to accept him? What a joke, I knew, I knew what he was about to do to me, especially looking at my attire, he had every intention of taking me yet again.

I actually think my protests help get him off. I think he enjoys taking everything from me, I know he wants me to be his and his alone, but he enjoys hurting me, he enjoys raping me, and that just makes him even more sick.

So far I had somehow managed to somehow superglue the cracks he had caused in me together, but even the glue wasn’t holding anymore, I'm just waiting for the day that I shatter into a million pieces, unable to be fixed.

My door once again opened and the old hag barged in. She took one look at me sat on my bed and nodded, roughly grabbing my upper arm again and dragging me to my still bare feet. On the way out some stupid perfume was sprayed onto me then I was marched to the kings door. The old woman knocked on the door before opening it and shoving me in at the kings request to enter. The door then slammed behind me and I took the room in.

His bed was huge, the sheets a pure silk as they neatly rested on his large mattress. The king was dressed in a simple pair of boxer shorts, and a silk unbuttoned black bed shirt rested over his shoulders. If he wasn't such a possessive, intolerable, abusive ass hole, I would have even said he was good looking. In his hand lay a small whiskey glass that was half filled with the alcoholic substance and half filled with ice.

"You look positively radiant, mate. I believe we will have to get you more clothes in this color, it suits you well." I cringed as his eyes raked up and down my barely covered body, growing black with lust the more he took me in.

Red was my favorite color, it always had been, so to hear him state that and seeing him eyeing me like prey while wearing the color, had now tainted my view. I looked at my feet and bit my lip to stop myself from snarking replying. Half my issues occurred because I couldn’t control what comes out of my mouth.

“Given your tardiness, I assume you enjoyed your time in the bath tub." He chuckled, causing bile rise up my throat slightly. "It has been a while since I have seen you looking so beautiful."

He finally placed his glass down on the side table and walked over to me, his hand gently cupped the side of my face and he placed a simple kiss on my forehead, while I froze in place. I was waiting for him to throw me on the bed, or for a slap, or punch to hit my face, instead he simply stared at my body. His thumb gently caressed the skin directly under my eye and he sighed.

"You are exhausted aren't you my queen?The dungeon is no place for a kings mate." I frowned and finally forced my fear down, snapping me back into the same old attitude that I know he hates.

"I didn't ask to be down there you know?!" I watched as his entire face went from almost loving to full on rage. It was scary how bipolar the king could be, like it only took a minute for his wolf to take over.

"You tried to kill yourself!" He snapped grabbing my thin arm roughly and shaking my whole body with it. I was basically a rag doll. He lowered his hand to my wrist and wrapped his hand around it, forcefully turning it to face palm upwards. He shoved my forearm in my face, and the angry scar that lay on it caused me to scowl. “You did that, to yourself just to get away from me!" He let go of my arm and turned around, swiping his hand at a lamp that lay on one of the bed side tables. Without a single drop of hesitation he hit it, causing it to fly across the room, and smash on the wall behind me.

A small shard of porcelain sliced a tiny scratch in my cheek causing it to bleed ever so slightly, but even so I dared not to move as his anger raged quickly.

"You are never getting away from me, princess! I will be there, every minute of every day to remind you exactly who you belong to. You’re never going anywhere, ever again." His wolf had surfaced slightly, and he slowly stepped towards me causing me to step backwards until my back hit the door I had just walked through.  His claws came out and his palm grabbed the back of my neck pulling my lips onto his own, forcefully for almost five whole minutes before he pulled away. "The problem is, I haven't given you enough pleasure have I?” He smirked as his eyes raked up and down my body hungrily.

He turned towards the bed, leaving me a scared mess against the door and walked over to a set of draws, on the side opposite from me.

I didn't want to wait to see what was inside the draw he opened gleefully, instead I reached for the door handle, opened it and shot out of his room. What I was hoping to achieve was beyond me, but my only thought was to get away from him, I hadn’t thought past getting out of his room.

He growled, almost a howl escaped him as in less than ten seconds I was thrown down and went sliding against the hallway floor, unable to stop him from lifting me and marching me right back to his room. He threw me on the bed roughly, causing my head to start aching immediately after it moving so fast.

My eyes widened when I saw a pair of thick, silver handcuffs resting on my side table. He grabbed them in his hands as I scooted to the very back of the bed, trying to get away from him.

"They are just to stop you from stopping me, mate. I know, I have neglected your needs, I promise, you will enjoy this so much, I'm going to make you feel so good. You might even accept me afterwards.” How could he be so delusional? Could he not feel my fear coming from me in waves, my entire body was shaking as he slowly approached with the restraints in hand.

I wasn’t getting out of this one!