Mated to the Alpha King: Chapter 23

It’s funny how sometimes you just want to run away—escape—because that seems like the best thing to do, because that seems like the only thing to do. But, in reality, it isn’t.

Standing there pressed against a seething, silently pleading Bryce, I knew I should go with Mom and Dad. I knew I should go home, and damn it, I wanted to badly. But the cracking of Bryce’s voice made my every thought falter. I didn’t know how to fix this; I didn’t know how to get things back to how they had been a couple of weeks back.

I didn’t know how to stay and endure this change.

So I just stood there. I was just standing there, letting Bryce growl and tighten his hold on me, then nudge my face against his chest when my dad made a move towards me. I was thinking . . . Though it looked like I was blowing embers at Bryce’s chest because I was staring at his shirt really intensely, I was still thinking.

I sighed and tried to move back but stopped instantly when Bryce let out a warning growl.

Dear Lord . . .

Giving up, I sighed again and leaned into him. I closed my eyes. I really needed to focus. Bryce’s rippling muscles moving against my waist was distracting.

“Funny how you don’t want me gone but you rarely stay as well. What are you running from?” I breathed lowly, but I knew he could hear me. Standing there leaning in his embrace felt slightly embarrassing because my parents were just a few steps away.

Bryce stilled as I whispered against his chest, my arms now clutching his shirt.

“Theia, let go. We’re going home now, pumpkin.”

Home . . .

I dropped my grip on Bryce’s shirt and moved my head back to look at him. The pools that had been my favorite shade of blue were now glowing golden. He looked back, ignoring my father altogether.

But I knew better. A snarl kept echoing from his lips; his canines were slipping out. Bryce was losing control to his beast. It looked like he was trying to control it, yet the beast seemed to be a very strong opponent.

“Mr. Anderson, I suggest we discuss this—elsewhere. I’m sure you understand how fragile the situation is. Removing a soul mate from a male were is life-threatening; removing a soul mate from a king were is suicide. He’s maddeningly possessive when it comes to your daughter. Please,” a weirdly nervous-toned Meryl spoke suddenly, trying to liaise with my dad.

“Arthur, please, h-he won’t hurt her; you know that. Let’s just listen to Meryl,” Mom softly said to soothe dad. I could see out of my peripheral vision that she was holding on to his arm and pulling him towards the door.

I couldn’t help but whimper slightly when I felt Dad give in. He stopped beside me and looked at me for a moment, when Bryce’s snarls got a tad deadlier, but hopeful-looking Mom pulled Dad away.

“Your things are on your bed, hunny . . . I want you to come home.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I mumbled, my gaze now on Bryce’s T-shirt again.

He suddenly moved forward, snarling at my dad and dragging me with him. I gasped at the sudden movement, and when the seriousness of things struck me, I quickly grabbed onto his T-shirt and pulled him back.

Dad preservation! Dad preservation!

My heart beating at a sickening pace, I quickly did the one thing I knew would calm Bryce down: hooking my arms around his neck, I pulled him down and captured his lips with mine.

The sound of the door shutting echoed through the otherwise-silent room—well, silent except for the soft humming and moaning floating around, which I was equally guilty of as Bryce with his uncensored groans. This time, however, I pushed him back.

Growing up, I had always been adamant on there being a certain time for things—a certain time for studying, a certain time for raiding Netflix, a certain time for falling in love. Clearly, if anyone had asked my seventeen-year-old self when she thought she would find love, I would have answered, “At the age of twenty-six, when I’ve become a criminal psychologist.”

Growing up, I had always viewed blossoming love around me with little to no interest.

Statistics show that love occurring and blossoming till its last stage during the teen years seemed highly bleak.

But now here I was standing before a man I loved, a man who was now regarding me with hooded eyes.

My love was different, yes. My love was unconventional, yes. My love was unorthodox, yes. Yes, a year or two ago, I would have fit into the bleak statistics. But it was true, my love for Bryce was blossoming and reaching its last stages.

I was completely defying my beliefs.

Then again, flowers do wilt after their full bloom.

“Why’d you break away?”

I moved a little further, trying to keep an arm’s length between us. He let me. I looked up at him when I became comfortable enough standing there.

“No reason.”

Bryce growled, and I shrank back. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I frowned. Did he have to swear so much? “I’m doing neither, actually. Neither am I kidding you nor having sex with you. Your next question?”

“Stop being so difficult!” Bryce snarled to me as he stepped closer with just one long stride, then he perched me up against his hips. My legs automatically wrapped around him to save me from a fall.

He moved us towards his dark wooden table and quickly placed me there, his arms still pressing me against him.

“Tomorrow’s the last day of school before the break. You’ll have to come here in the afternoon anyway.” His voice nearly sounded like he was pleading as he dipped his nose in the crook of my neck, placing a soft kiss on my sweet spot.

I tilted my head to give him better access just as his sharp teeth grazed the smoothness of my skin. I shuddered, my eyes closed, as I tried to concentrate on what he was actually saying. Like I said, having Bryce’s rippling muscles against my waist was distracting. Having his lips on my neck? The world didn’t even exist.

“Then let me go home for tonight?” I mumbled pleadingly.

His kisses stopped almost instantly. He moved back and looked at me, his eyes narrowed in anger. Then, all of a sudden, they changed; they went blank—no emotion at all.

“It sucks,” Bryce replied, carelessly shrugging, looking around the room intently.

I tilted an eyebrow up and looked at him questioningly. “What is?”

“That you’re not going.” He shrugged again.

“I am!” I almost shouted back, suddenly feeling extremely agitated. It irritated me how Bryce kept avoiding the real problems, clearing ways for tiny new ones just to keep my head occupied. All the tiny bubbles were now overcrowding my mind, to the point that I didn’t even know how to feel anymore!

His eyes narrowed at my fuming form, and he leaned forward. I didn’t move, equally adamant about standing my ground.

“I will tie you to my bed if I have to. I will kill for you if I have to. Don’t test me, love,” Bryce hissed into my ear, each word delivered slowly and with extreme emphasis. I almost shivered at his tone—almost.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re a potato!” I retorted almost instantly and nearly smacked my face the next second. Did I have to be such an idiot when I least wanted to be? “Potato”? Seriously?

“A—”

I watched as the most uncanny thing occurred before my eyes—well, other than seeing Bryce transform: His eyes were glazed over, his gaze now distant. He had stayed that way for a second before he came back. I watched him curiously as he blinked, his eyes refocusing on me. His frown returned.

“You okay?” I blurted out, pressing my palm against his face out of reflex.

Bryce nodded, his hand on mine.

“I have to stay away from you till the full moon passes. I-I don’t want to force you into anything—”

Woah! Where is this coming from?

“Bryce, it’s okay; I want to—”

“No! No, you don’t. You just don’t want me using those fucking wolfsbane tonics. I won’t let you do it—not this full moon. That’s final!”

Is he crazy? Crap, now I feel even more guilty for my reaction that day!

“M-marking helps, right?”

Bryce’s gaze shot to mine. He sighed and shook his head. “Royals mark when they mate, love. When we meet our mates, the need to stake our claim is almost painful. But we royals can only mark while mating. This way, it ensures that we will mate with our soul mates and expand the lineage.”

My eyes widened.

“Like— Like . . . babies?” I whispered, watching him with huge, wide eyes.

What is this man even talking about? Babies at eighteen? Is he kidding me?

Bryce smiled, his thumb now drawing tiny patterns on the back of my hand. “Yes, babies.”

I gulped and nodded. There would be no making babies for now, and that settled it for me, at least for the time being.

“Oh, and by the way, Matthew is up.”

Finally!

A grin formed on my lips, and I looked towards the door. Bryce’s eyes clouded with an unknown emotion, he moved away, slouching a little. My gaze instantly turned back to him. I reached for his hands and laced my fingers with his.

“Bryce?”

He looked up at me. “Hmm?”

“Kiss me, please?”

***

“I can’t believe he invited us to stay at the castle for the weekend,” Dad exclaimed, disbelieving, as he slumped down on the comfortable sofa, which I had only yesterday occupied as a sleeping space.

After kissing Bryce senseless, meeting Matthew and berating him against challenging a royal again, bumping into Chris and Evangeline—whom I had promised to spend the night watching movies with—bidding Mr. and Mrs. Smith goodbye, and promising Marley that she would indeed see me at school tomorrow, I made my way through the trusted corridors of the first floor, only to collide with a grinning Meryl and a tortured-looking Bryce. I then discovered that Meryl had negotiated with Bryce on my behalf and that he had in fact agreed to invite my parents to stay at the castle for the weekend.

Needless to say, I was ecstatic and feeling really appreciative. I slumped down on the sofa just beside Dad. Mom followed my action, but she improvised with the lack of space and plopped her legs on Dad’s and my thighs.

“The handsome man is in love with our daughter; of course he would do anything to make her happy.” Mum giggled softly, which was not really out of her character, considering that she really didn’t do half the things normal mothers did—like remind their girls that boys have cooties or buy them only plain panties, which are usually white, pink, or black and occasionally adorned with a bow on the front.

Dad huffed as he leaned against the comfortable cushions of the sofa, “Hmph! I didn’t see him do anything to make her happy when he had ripped her heart out just a few days ago!”

I sighed and leaned towards Dad to rest my head on his chest. His arms immediately wrapped around my shoulders. “He was talking to his niece, Dad. It was all really my fault. I picked self-preservation before actually giving him a chance to prove himself. I got scared—scared of heartache—so I ran.”

“Oh, hunny,” Mom mumbled lovingly and quickly changed her position to lean in and give me a hug. I hugged her back. Dad’s hold on my shoulders tightened, and he also leaned in to place a kiss on my temple.

I wiped away the tears that had escaped my eyes, more because of finally being able to hold my folks than of the sadness that I had once felt about that moment in the car. Now all I felt was embarrassment.

“Let’s not talk about that, though! Let’s talk about something else!”

“Oh, oh! I have something to tell you!” Mom exclaimed, actually jumping up and down on her seat. I could only giggle as Dad groaned and hid his face behind his hands.

“Tell me,” I said, chuckling, just as excitedly.

“Casey called! She’s hoping to visit! And with Angelo!”

My grin turned sour in just a matter of seconds.

Angelo wasn’t actually what one would imagine a guy to be. No, Angelo had actually been born Angelia Lolein and was Casey’s twin—fraternal twin. It was weird because, whereas I loved Casey, Angelia just pissed me off.

Angelia—one minute and two seconds Casey’s senior and two months mine, she looked like everything but a girl. Truth be told, I’d always thought she looked exactly like a boy—not that she minded, though.

Angelia first proclaimed that she was a boy and liked girls when she was as little as nine years old. Mr. Lolein saw it as something like a phase and disregarded it. It was only when Angelia was twelve that she strongly made the assertion that she was a boy and that she didn’t want to be thought of as a girl anymore—well, that and that she wanted to marry me. That was part of what pissed me off, but let’s set that aside for now. Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Lolein refused.

So Angelia found another outlet: she joined soccer, rugby, boxing, martial arts, swimming, and everything else the average person would classify as a “man’s activity” and grew buff like a bull. Then they sent her away to boarding school.

She got tattoos, got her hair cut short, and started wearing men’s clothes. She would also at countless times try to approach me in the dark or in places—like a man. She would call me, leave sweet notes, and when she was back in the neighborhood in the breaks . . . she would bash boys who looked at me. Last I’d heard of her was a week before moving; she was finally getting her transitioning surgeries done. I suppose I should call her a he.

Casey knew about his slightly more than a little obsessive behavior towards me, but she couldn’t do anything because she loved her brother. I couldn’t do anything, either, because he had been through so much already. Realizing you don’t want to be in the body you’re in and constantly getting denied the freedom to change things can be very emotional. I suppose that was why I had always tolerated his behavior, so I suppose this obsession was also partially my fault. I only hoped he wouldn’t try anything here. Bryce had not completely lost his cool so far—well, except with Lionel—I really didn’t want to see him losing it anytime soon, or ever, if that could be done.

Mom immediately read my face. She knew about the Angelo situation. Dad didn’t, for obvious reasons.

“Honey, you wouldn’t mind having Angelo over, would you?”

At this Dad perked up, and I would almost wince at what he asked next.

“Why would she have a problem with Angelo?” Dad looked at me now. “Anything I ought to know, pumpkin?”

I shook my head. Dad’s eyes widened. Behind me, I looked back to see my mom shaking her head too.

I sighed, “No, Dad, all’s well.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed at both my mother and me, but he quickly rolled them and, shaking his head again, muttered, “Women.”

The sound of the door opening floated around the room, and all three of us turned to a smiling Meryl gliding towards us and a shy Evangeline clutching Meryl’s long black dress, hiding behind her.

“Here you are. Young Evangeline has been looking all over for you.” Meryl beamed as she finally came to a stop before us, her gaze on me.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a suspicious look, while Mom and Dad smiled. They both decidedly got up, and I followed.

“Your dad and I should be going now—work tomorrow and all, love. We’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, alright? Do you want something from home?” Mom smiled as she turned to me and pulled me in for a hug.

Dad’s arms came around both of us. He then placed a firm kiss on my forehead. “See you tomorrow, pumpkin. Take care and be good, okay?”

“I love you, Dad,” I mumbled after we’d all broken away. I then turned to Mom. “Mom, could you please pack me some clothes and my laptop and stuff . . . you know, for the break.”

Mom’s eyes sparkled as a grin lit up her lips. “Of course, dear! I’ll bring your things tomorrow.”

She then leaned in to whisper into my ear, “I have a feeling you’ll need your things here too.”

My face heated up into what I suppose was a blush, and I turned to my dad, who only tightened his grip on me.

“We should leave now, pumpkin. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Please call us if something goes wrong . . . okay?”

I nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

Mom had pulled me in for a last hug before she and Dad turned to Meryl and, after giving me a last wave, moved out of the room after her.

Evangeline stood at the edge of the sofa, watching me with shy yet excited eyes.

“Come here.” I grinned while reaching for her arm and pulling her onto the sofa, beside me.

She giggled as she plopped down on the sofa.

“Your daddy scares me. Is your daddy strict?”

I giggled and shook my head. “No. No, he isn’t. But he sure is scary, huh?”

Eva giggled, nodding.

I smiled and pulled her into a side hug. “So what are we going to watch today?”

“Can we watch Fifty-Fifty Shade?” Eva immediately chirped, looking extremely excited.

A gasp escaped my lips before I could stop myself. I looked at her with my mouth hanging open.

“No! You’re too young to watch that movie. How about we watch Harry Potter? Draco is mine, though!” I then tickled the giggling Evangeline.

She nodded, still laughing like crazy, as she wiggled under my tickling fingers.

“Okay, okay! I like Neville better anyway! He likes plants!”

“The Weasley twins are mine!”

What?

Both Evangeline’s and my heads turned to the still-open door, where a grinning Matthew and a warm-looking Rome stood. Matthew marched into the room, his grin widening, when he noticed both Eva’s and my bewildered expressions.

“What? I always had a secret thing for Fred and George.” He mimicked a generic girl’s excited voice, his hands clutching his heart in a mocking movement.

Both Evangeline and I rolled our eyes. “Shut up, you,” I muttered, grinning despite myself.

Evangeline nodded in agreement. “Yes! Shut up, Uncle Matt!”

Matthew scoffed as he grabbed hold of the coffee table before us and placed it away. He then grabbed hold of the dozens of pillows on my bed before throwing them on the fluffy rug and plopping down on them. A now-grinning Roman moved towards me and, out of nowhere, pulled me up for a hug.

“Hey,” I murmured against his chest, my arms around his waist.

“Hey,” he sighed, his warm breath fanning my neck. “I’m glad everything’s better. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore—promise.”

I nodded, smiling a little into his shirt.

“Good,” he answered with a smile before moving back, placing a soft kiss on my forehead, tousling the frowning Evangeline’s hair, and plopping down on the rug beside Matthew.

“Uncle Rome, why do you hug Thi like that? Do you love her?”

Both Roman and Matthew stilled and turned back to face me. I blushed, frowning because I really didn’t want Roman to have feelings for me.

Matthew turned to the TV again and started flipping through the movie cases, trying to find the movie, while Roman smiled and nodded. “Yes, Eva, I love Theia a lot. She didn’t give up on me, even when I was scary and very mean to her. She’s my best friend. Don’t you love her?”

Evangeline smiled brightly, bobbing her head up and down excitedly. “I love her, too, Uncle Rome! She’s my best friend too!”

I couldn’t help but blush harder. My gaze, however, was on Matthew. Having freshly found out he had feelings for me, I had to be careful because I really didn’t want all this to be awkward for him. I watched as his stance visibly relaxed, and he opened the Harry Potter case with much less force. He slipped out the DVD and crawled to the Blu-ray player, then crawled back to his spot with the remote.

Roman got up and moved towards the wall to the left and switched off the lights, while I leaned towards the side table and turned the string lights on, letting the darkened room glow with the tiny bulbs.

“Don’t you have anything to eat?” Matthew suddenly whispered just as Harry got locked in his cupboard room under the stairs by his horrible uncle Vernon.

“Pause it! I mean it! Don’t you dare play it till I get back!”

After quickly jumping off of the sofa, I half ran, half jogged towards the tiny kitchen area that was in the space just beside the balcony and opened the fridge. After grabbing a couple of bottles of soda and a bottle of orange juice, I turned to a cupboard and grabbed a large bag of chips.

These items in hand, I made a move to run back to the living area, but then I stopped and turned back.

Chocolates!

After opening the fridge again, I quickly took out four packets of Snickers before pushing the refrigerator door back shut . . . with my butt. I then quickly jogged towards the very guilty-looking group of Matt, Rome, and Eva.

I knew it!

Rolling my eyes, I replaced myself in my spot. “You guys played the movie, didn’t you?” I muttered, rolling my eyes again.

“No!” Evangeline piped up almost instantly, her head moving up and down as she verbally denied my accusation.

I smirked at her before handing her a packet of Snickers. She accepted it almost instantly, too, grinning a thank-you while she did.

“Here,” I mumbled, passing the boys their bottles of soda and chips.

“Where’s my chocolate?” Matthew pouted, looking at the happy Evangeline taking a bite out of hers.

I grinned and gave them their packets one by one.

“Aha! We knew you had it there, hidden! Oh, what torture, Theia—truly!”

After rolling my eyes a third time, I turned back to the movie. Hagrid had just rescued Harry and gifted Dudley with his very own piggy tail—best spell ever! All hail the pink umbrella!

The creek of the door as it opened had barely even registered in our senses before a muscly throat was audibly cleared, catching all of our attention.

My eyes widened as they locked on Bryce’s.

My breath hitched. He, however, calm and collected, kept on moving, walking further into the room, towards me.

Once he got to me, he quickly leaned down and picked me up in his arms before settling down on the sofa himself, me still in his arms.

Roman and Matthew both scoffed.

“Told you he wouldn’t be able to stay away,” Matthew mumbled to Rome, who only grinned.

“Hi,” Bryce whispered into my ear, his palm slipping onto my tummy to hold me against him in a way that enabled me to continue watching the movie.

“Shhh! I’m watching Harry! Besides, little Draco is about to come!” I snapped to him lowly, all the while opening my packet of Snickers, my eyes glued to the red-haired boy who had been my crush. Thinking back to it now, I really didn’t know what I had been thinking; Percy Weasley was not as good looking as I had believed him to be. In fact, the twins beat him to a pulp!

I bit down on the chocolate bar and immediately closed my eyes as the combination of caramel, chocolate, and nuts covered my palate. Damn it, this was good.

I opened my eyes again as the high rolled off, just in time to see Evangeline lean in to steal a fistful of potato chips from the boys.

I grinned at the little monster. She really was a character. I almost felt like she was the little sister I’d never had.

Bringing the chocolate back towards my mouth, I stopped instantly when Bryce’s fingers found my chin. My gaze caught his as he tilted my head towards him, then leaning down slowly, he nipped at the side of my bottom lip, his tongue flicking on the skin of it.

“It tastes even better off your lips,” Bryce whispered, grinning, as he looked at me stare at him with wide eyes. At that moment, I was sure my ovaries had in fact exploded.

Evangeline cleared her throat quite obviously, catching the attention of all four of us adults. She then rolled her eyes at Bryce and me.

“Cooties!”

I couldn’t help but blush harder when Bryce smirked, a proud paternal look gracing his features. He reached out to pat Eva’s head. “Not when your mate kisses you, sweetie.”

“Really?”

Bryce smiled. “Really”

Just then, a loud chime, which I recognized as my message tone, sounded around the room.

I quickly moved towards the bed, where the sound was seemingly coming from. Maybe it was Dad. He rarely called unless he had to.

Though, one thought seemed a little unsettling . . .

How could my cellphone be on—when I had clearly left it off?

Frowning, I glanced at the screen and sighed.

“1 new message”—it was definitely Dad.

The frown still playing on my face, I tapped on the notification.

A thousand nights I’ve moaned it seems Your name leaves my lips each night A strange face graced my dreams A stranger I knew before a meet But now I know . . . it’s you, it’s you There’s no escaping now . . .

You’ve run away a million times But came back when I closed my eyes They’re open now, and still you’re here I won’t let you leave You’re mine You’re mine — S

I didn’t even know I was shivering in fear until I realized my phone’s screen kept moving. I took a deep breath and deleted the message.

The feeling of it actually being intended for me was immense, so much so that I knew in the back of my head that it was the same person who had tried to block Bryce’s number while pretending to be me. But how concrete could that reasoning be?

Exactly—it wasn’t very concrete.

Well, at least one thing was concrete at that point: it was definitely not Dad.

With shaky hands, I returned my iPhone and turned back to the living room, only to bump face-first into a hard-breathing wall.

My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes moved higher and locked on livid golden ones.

“Bryce . . .”