The Alpha King's Hated Slave
The Alpha King’s Hated Slave Chapter 146

Baski’s wrinkled cheeks flushed a little. “Vetta once referred to the king as a no-preamble man. Just in case… uhm, you have to be prepared.”

Danika would have refuted the mistress’s notion, but she was too worked up to try. Indeed, the king is not big on foreplay and he doesn’t like to be touched, but he is different with her.

That gave her a pause. He is different with her.

Surely, everything will be alright. That, more than anything, calmed her.

She took the gel from Baski, entered the bathroom and used it. She came out a minute later and walked towards the door.

“Danika?”

She turned at the sound of Baski’s voice. “Uhm?”

Baski hesitated, “The king is a very damaged man. He might look well on the outside, but he is broken on the inside. He needs help, but he is not a man that will allow it.”

Danika knows all this, but hearing Baski say it squeezed her heart in her chest.

The older woman smiled sadly, wet her lips and continued, “Do you know that sometimes, when he takes so much time to reply words or give commands, I think it’s because he’s trying to hear the words above the ones in his head. His head is a war zone.”

“Madam Baski—” Danika began.

But she walked closer and took her hands again into her older ones, “So, please, be patient with him, okay? Don’t struggle. Don’t fight him. If any woman can reach him and draw him out of the abyss, it’s you. You have done it before, I have complete faith in you.”

Danika smiled nervously. The thought of the king hurting, does not settle well with her. She nodded her head, “Alright, Baski.”

Stepping back, Baski severed contact. “Go, now. And, hurry. Keeping him waiting will only put him in a worse mood. Getting all worked up in that calm way of his. Not good for you.”

Danika nodded again, and walked away towards the King’s quarters. With each step she took, the hammer in her chest beat louder and harder.

She reached his door and knocked on it so hesitantly, her heart pounding.

She waited for his command. The wait was killing her.

“Enter.” His deep voice came.

She shivered. She can feel the hardness and coldness of it even with a closed door between them.

Calm down, Danika. Calm down.

At this rate you’ll panic yourself to death right here before you even stand before him.

She opened the door and entered. She locked the door behind her. Took a step inside and stopped.

Baski was right. He is in a very black mood. The worst kind.

The man who seated behind the desk without sparing her a glance—who’s whole attention was focused on the scroll in front of him—isn’t the king Lucien that took her out for an evening walk and gave her memories she’ll never forget.

The large formidable figure that began folding his well-written scrolls into a neat roll in front of her, isn’t the man that visited her sick bed and stood for hours watching her sleep. He isn’t the man that held her in his arms, kissed her senseless and held her all night.

No. The man in front of her is her Master. The man that hated her and drips with his loath for her father. The man that took her virginity.

He is ‘My Master’ not ‘My King’.

He raised cold chilling eyes to her and uttered only one word.

“Strip.”

The word sent a chill down Danika’s spine. It shredded her heart right out of her chest. This is truely not the man she has been with recently and she doesn’t know what happened.

She don’t know how to reach him—how to reach Her King and not Her Master. Fear gripped her but she was determined to try.

“My K–” She began, only to cut off suddenly when his cold eyes glared at her.

Do not dare. Those eyes said the words his mouth didn’t.

“Strip.” He repeated, putting the scroll away.

Danika’s heart beat wildly as she raised her shaky hands and began undressing with shaky hands. What happened to him? What went wrong?

During the wedding he was cool and refined, his usual self lately. Something must have happened after the wedding to tick him off. Or is it about the past?

Untying the ropes of her chemise, she let the it drop to the ground and stepped out of it. The sound of his chair pulling back was unusually loud in the room as he got up.

He looked wild. Fierce. Animalistic. Angry.

Chilling blue eyes—eyes she has not seen in a long time—pinned her as he began striding towards her. She’d pulled off her garter and stepped out of it too, left in her cotton underthings.

He didn’t give her the time to pull them off, instead, he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back, twisting her almost immediately until Danika suddenly saw herself pressing face-front to the wall.

She shot out her arms immediately to either side of her to steady herself and prevent front-colliding with the wall. He came up behind her almost immediately, she felt his breath to her ear.

“Please…” She gasped, trying to tap down her terror, “Please, calm down, Your Highness.”

A large hand circled her neck, and she froze up expecting him to choke her. Relief coursed through her when his hand lowered.

But, her relief was short-lived because he wasn’t dropping his hand, instead, he circled the button of her collar.

She has never forgotten the cold metal around her neck that branded her as his slave. A collar-shock in her condition will kill her.

Terror closed up Danika’s throat and she begab shaking her head vigorously. “Please, please, not the collar. Please, don’t press it please….!”

“I’m your Master. I am not your king.” His voice was positively animalistic, so deep it was a growl.

The king Lucien she has come to know lately, is not in there anymore. Tears filled her eyes.

“Yes… Master.” The whispered word left a bitter taste in her mouth.