SHE IS MY MATE

After a tense argument with Corrine, my new roommate, we were summoned to gather by Wren, the designated leader who assigned our duties.

As her voice echoed through the gathering, reading the names from the book clutched in her hands and assigning tothem their duties, the others began to disperse.

Yet, I fulfill myself inexplicably left behind, a creeping sense of unease curling in my stomach as I scrutinized my surroundings, puzzled by the lack of instruction directed toward me.

"Did I do something wrong, madame?" I ventured, my voice barely a whisper, laced with trepidation.

Was I getting sacked?

"I wish you did," she snapped, her words like shards of ice. "Go clean the corridor in front of the King's chamber," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument as she strode away briskly, leaving me standing there, a mix of confusion and disbelief clouding my mind.

Cleaning the corridor of the King's chamber was an unfamiliar task for me,he absence of any additional assignments only deepened my bewilderment.

My thoughts raced back to the previous night when he had warned me not to be idling or risk the consequences of stealing me away.

Had he influenced Wren to deprive me of work so that our paths might cross? I scoffed, annoyance flaring within me. How was I to earn my keep if he kept meddling in my responsibilities?

With my heart pounding in my chest, I ascended the staircase, my gaze fixed upon the floor as I passed other staff, each absorbed in their tasks.

As I approached the King's corridor, an unsettling silence enveloped me, quickening my pulse. I pushed open the tall, polished windows, letting the cool air sweep through before taking to wiping the glass panes clean.

My hands instinctively brushed away the cobwebs hanging like ghosts in the corners. Despite the apparent tidiness, I knew the King had an unyielding standard for cleanliness, and the generous payment made the effort worthwhile.

I raised the broom, aiming to clear any remnants of dust from the walls before addressing the ceiling.

However, as I stretched upward, it was evident that I couldn't reach that high as I was short. Frustration creased my brow, and I sank to my knees beside the window, pouting slightly as I took a moment to catch my breath and allow my arms a brief rest.

Then, without warning, the heavy door swung open, and our eyes locked, sending a jolt of surprise through me.

My heart raced, and I sprang to my feet. "Good morning, Your Majesty," I stammered, quickly pivoting away, my hand instinctively reaching for the ceiling to gather dust and cobwebs as if hiding my flustered state.

"Good morning," he replied, a rich timbre lacing his words that sent shivers down my spine. I fought the urge to look at him again, knowing it would bring back the memories of our encounter from the night before. As I stretched my body to reach the lingering dirt, my brows knit together in concentration, but then unexpected warmth enveloped me.

Before I could fully comprehend, I felt myself being lifted from the ground, his strong arms encircling my legs, hoisting me into the air. My lips parted in shock, and despite every instinct telling me to look away, my gaze finally met his.

I found myself lost in the depths of his mesmerizing green eyes, which glinted with a seductive charm that sent a shiver down my spine.

As he raised an eyebrow, a smirk danced on his lips. "Go on," he urged, his voice a low murmur that stirred something within me.

I swallowed hard, nodding, and absentmindedly brushed the dust from the ceiling, my thoughts racing as he began to stride around me, effortlessly carrying me wherever my whims led. A wave of apprehension washed over me—why him of all people? The thought of anyone witnessing this intimate scene in the castle sent my heart racing with the risk of chaos it could unleash.

When I finally finished my work, he gently placed me down, as if I were the most fragile treasure.

I blinked, trying to regain my composure, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. "I need to sweep," I stammered, quickly glancing away, but before I could escape, I felt his solid frame press me against the wall. He towered over me, his presence overwhelming as he pinned my hands firmly above my head.

I exhaled shakily. "Did Your Majesty ask Lady Wren to make me work here?" I ventured, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I did," he replied, his tone laced with mischief, "How else would I be able to steal this moment with you?" My thoughts halted, left utterly speechless by his words.

"Look up," he commanded softly.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I murmured.

"Refusing to look up when I asked you to is a far worse idea," he retorted, a sarcastic edge to his voice. My lips parted slightly as I wet them nervously, and I slowly turned my gaze back to meet his piercing eyes.

"There. Is it truly that dreadful? From today onward, I expect you to look at me," he declared with an air of authority.

"That's not possible, Your Majesty—" I began to retort, my pulse quickening.

"And it's Kian," he interjected smoothly, breaking the formality that hung thick between us.

The silence stretched, both of us waiting—he for me to utter his name, and I for the courage to do so. My gaze drifted upward, catching sight of a speck of dust lodged in his ebony hair, remnants of my earlier cleaning. "There's something in your hair, Your Majesty," I said, observing the moment his brows furrowed as he instinctively touched his hair.

"It's on that side," I muttered, pointing slightly.

"Just remove it," he instructed, his voice steady yet inviting. With hands trembling from a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, I reached up and delicately brushed aside the web, my fingers gliding through the silky strands of his dark hair that cascaded across his forehead. The texture was exquisite—soft, shiny, and impossibly inviting. I took a few hesitant steps back, bewildered by the sudden shift in familiarity.

But he approached me again, and the air thickened with unspoken tension. My mind raced, baffled by his boldness so early in the morning—it was a strange departure from my usual routine and it unsettled me.

"I've been thinking about you all night," he confessed, his voice low and teasing, pulling my attention back to him. "Your lips—they drive me insane. All I can think about is tasting them again."

"Is your Majesty horny this morning?" I began, my voice barely above a whisper, curiosity lacing each word.

He chuckled in amusement, a captivating sincerity in his gaze that urged me to lean in closer, caught in his magnetic pull.

"Yes, I am, I've been thinking about all what I want to do to you when I see you, and they're nothing close to innocent" he confessed, his eyes reflecting an earnestness that stirred something deep within me.

Momentarily, his hand found mine, warm and reassuring as he drew me nearer, our bodies aligning in a way that made the world around us fade away.

My palms met the taut fabric of his chest, the rhythm of his heart pounding beneath, wild and alive with unspoken emotions. He raised his other hand, his fingers brushing gently against my cheek, a feather-light touch that ignited a flame of anticipation before he closed the distance between us, capturing my lips with his.

The kiss was soft yet demanding, his lips enveloping mine as he tilted his head, skillfully parting them to take my bottom lip captive. With a thrill coursing through me, I felt his hand slide down to my waist, pulling me in closer still. I swallowed hard, mesmerized as I watched him close his eyes, lost in the moment. His tongue traced the line of my bottom lip with exquisite slowness, and without realizing it, my eyelids fluttered shut. I stood frozen, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of sensations while my heart raced as if it might leap from my chest.

"Kian," a voice called out, breaking the intimate spell that enveloped us. My eyes snapped open, and instinctively, I stepped back, my head lowering in embarrassment.

Kian turned, frustration etched across his features as he prepared to confront the intruder. Yet, his gaze softened upon recognizing the figure approaching us—a familiar face that seemed far too carefree.

"Callum?" he raised an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and surprise coloring his tone.

Callum sauntered over, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, greeting Kian with a casual hug that only heightened my discomfort.

Anxiety coiled in my stomach as I stood there, feeling utterly out of place, my knees weak with confusion, wishing desperately for an escape to regain my composure.

"Didn't expect to see you here so soon; the event doesn't start until tonight," Kian muttered, his voice tinged with an exasperation that mingled with the tension hanging in the air.

"You know me, I like to arrive early," Callum replied, his gaze shifting toward me with a knowing glimmer. I quickly averted my eyes, a rush of heat flooding my cheeks. "And who might she be?" he inquired, fixing Kian with an inquisitive look.

A heavy silence fell, thick with unspoken words. I wondered if Kian would opt for the easy route, referring to me as merely his servant. But the thought of being labeled as such made my stomach churn. This was a pivotal moment; I held my breath, waiting for Kian to reveal the truth, anticipating whether he would choose honesty over convenience.

"She's my mate," he declared, the words resonating in the stillness around us. I blinked in disbelief, convinced I must have misheard him, as my gaze shot to him, searching for a hint of jest in his expression.

But there was none. He just admitted to it.