Chapter 5 The king's pleasure

Gabriel POV...

I rolled over with a wail and found my stretch blocked by a warm but immovable body.

Groaning, I propped myself up on my elbows, staring down at the woman passed out on my bed. She was snoring lightly and drooling on my pillow, which had been freshly laundered the day before. I barely stopped myself from growling. I hated having to ask for help to do extra work. But I didn't want to sleep with the smell of this woman's saliva on my sheets, and already my sensitive nose was scrunching at the scent.l couldn't quite remember her name, but she was impressively solid. I gave her a nudge and she snorted."Miss," I bit out, voice low with sleep. "You need to get up. I have places to be."She shifted and murmured, rolling over onto her back, a string of spittle trailing from the pillow to her lush mouth. I almost smiled remembering what I'd done to that mouth the night before but ended up frowning instead as she began to snore even more heavily. With a sigh, I rolled out of the bed, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I stalked across the room, pulled open a dark walnut armoire, and began to sift through clothing to find something comfortable for the day.

I didn't have anywhere to be. Most of my daily responsibilities had been postponed or taken over by others in preparation for the hunt, but that didn't mean I wanted a stranger passed out in my room all day.

"Charles," I shouted gruffly, yanking out a pair of pants and a simple shirt.

The bedroom door opened and my man stepped in, eyes kept carefully away from the bed and the woman's exposed breasts.

I got an eyeful of them instead, as appreciative as I was annoyed.

"Would you mind waking up my guest?" I asked, shoving one leg into the pants and yanking them up. Charles sighed but started toward the bed. He looked away from the woman as he prodded her gently, a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss," he tried softly, before shaking her a bit harder. I bit back a laugh.

She gasped and sat up, looking around quickly.

Her mouth remained open when she found me across the room, fingers deftly unbuttoning the shirt. She looked satisfied for just a moment before realizing that Charles was very, very close to her.

Then she screamed a small scream and snatched the sheet from her chest. This time, I did laugh.

"What are you- !?" she began, scrambling away from him.

Charles glanced down at her and said with a perfectly straight face, "If you don't mind, Miss, the King has a lot to do today, and will need his rooms available. "

Mumbling angrily to herself and glaring at Charles, the woman slid out of bed and began the search for her clothes.

As she looked around the room, I began to piece together the night before. I caught sight of a lace bra flung onto a curtain rod and raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't mean to stay," the woman was saying, but from the offended tone in her voice, it was clear she'd had a plan just like all the others.

On the off chance, I passed out before they left. whatever woman, I had entertained usually thought they'd gotten away with something when they woke up in my bed. But I had a different set of rules than other men. After all, I was the Alpha.

It meant nothing to me that a woman had shared my bed. My bed was for a handful of activities; sleeping, sex, and occasionally eating, most likely off of someone else's body. But I had no sentimental attachment to it. It could be easily replaced, like anyone who found their way into it. I watched the women anyway, their faces when they realized that I honestly didn't care about them.

This woman in particular, who I'd met the night before for the first and last time, was almost fully dressed now. She glared at me and started for the door, but not before Charles cleared his throat.

I had to stifle a laugh as I glanced at my manservant and saw the bra hanging from his fingertips.

Face flaming red, the woman stalked across the room and snatched it before practically running for the door once again.

Charles sighed and stared at me, clearly disapproving of the shirt on now and half-buttoned. Charles rummaged around in a lower drawer and pulled out a set of polished shoes, which he straightened on the floor in front of me.

"I wish you wouldn't use me for that purpose," the man muttered, sitting on the edge of a dresser and crossing his legs. It was obvious from Charles' posture that we had a relationship that went beyond just king and servant. Although I had a secret reputation for being incredibly fair and generous with my servants, that didn't mean they let loose in my presence. But Charles had been with me for almost all of my life and he could probably get away with murder.

"I wouldn't have to use you for that if they just believed the rumors, and went out on their own."

Charles rolled his eyes. "You're hoping for too much. You know every woman in the Kingdom daydreams about being the one you can't let go of. They each think they're bringing something unique to the...bedroom."I snorted."Well, I wouldn't say she was particularly unique. Somewhat of a dead fish, really."

"Where did you find her?"

"Out on Red Street last night."

Charles' face froze as he stared up at me.

"She's not -?" he asked, his voice icy with horror. I rolled my eyes. "I haven't gotten that desperate, Charles."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd gone through all of the women in the kingdom, and had to work your way down to the lower classes at that point."

That got a grin out of me.

"Not yet. Surprisingly, they're still flocking to me, ready and willing."

Glancing at myself quickly in the mirror, I was satisfied with what I saw. A tall build, broad shoulders, and thick blonde hair. The white shirt I wore accentuated my cheekbones and the pants fit perfectly. It was no wonder I never slept alone. I looked damn good.

Charles sighed and stood up.

"Well, you've had your chance at peace. It's time to start the day."

"Start the day," I scoffed, following my manservant toward the door. "What could I possibly be needed for today? Aside from giving my blessing on ballroom décor, menu items, and signage for the tournaments "

"Your mother wants to speak with you," Charles said lightly, smiling at himself as I groaned.

"Again?"

"Perhaps if you had listened to her during the hundred other conversations, she wouldn't need to bash you over the head with the same warnings."

"I need to find a mate," I mocked in a slightly higher-pitched voice.