Where Flowers Don't Belong

All Rights Reserved ©

Blue Oceans

Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around me and stuffed his face into my neck, inhaling deeply. I was beyond bewildered. This was such a strange position we were in. I had never been held like this. I had never been held at all. Period.

Is this what it felt like to lay in the arms of another? Is this what it felt like to receive affection? If it was, I never wanted it to end. Even if it was false care and devotion, only given in the foreplay of sex, I still reveled in it. It felt so good. I finally understood why I always saw werewolf mates constantly holding each other and leaving teasing touches on each other’s skin as if they couldn’t get enough of each other. This man was not my mate but it still felt better than anything I had ever experienced.

Without my permission, as if my body was moving on its own accord, I felt my arms wrap around the king’s large body, wanting to be closer to him, to have more of my skin touching his, and to calm his shaking body. The king had been growling harshly in my ear until then, his entire body spasming in fury. However, the moment that my hands touched his warm, bare, muscular back, all of that stopped. He stood perfectly still.

At the feeling of his stillness, I froze as well, sensing his change in demeanor. The only movement from either of us came from the rise and fall of our chests, our ragged breathing seeming to synch into one motion.

After a minute like that, I felt the soft rumbling in his chest and a low growl brush against the hollow of my neck. I stiffened slightly. This growl sounded nothing like the others I had heard from him. This growl sounded more like a purr, quiet and calm.

With his face still in my hair, I felt him nip lightly on my neck, more purrs leaving his chest. The sparks that occurred only when I touched the king increased tenfold the moment his canines scraped against the spot on my neck. My knees nearly collapsed beneath me in shock. The sparks traveled all throughout my body, causing delicious warmth and satisfaction to course through me like a wave. The wave moved slowly, taking its time to touch every single part of my being until I was completely submerged in its warm water, more content than I had ever been. Eventually, the sparks stopped their dancing on my skin and landed with ferocity in my core, leaving behind an intense, tingly feeling that I had never felt before.

The king’s lips drifted over the spot on my neck once more before his nose traveled up my throat and across my chin, stopping by my ear. I heard him chuckle softly, his hot breath blowing at the loose hairs that had fallen from my bun.

“I can smell your desire,” he whispered huskily. His grip tightened on my waist, “and, god, you have no idea what it’s doing to me.”

It was his words that snapped me out of my trance with so much force that I nearly jumped out of his arms at that very moment. I felt blood rush up my chest and to my cheeks, staining them what I was sure was a deep red. I was suddenly very aware of the intimate position I was in with the hybrid king. Neither of us had clothing covering our upper halves, leaving my bare breasts pressed against his. I was basically naked and touching the king in a way I had never touched any other man.

I then realized that I had touched him without his permission. It was as if I had no control over myself. What the hell was the matter with me? Had I forgotten everything that Madame Melinda had taught me about my place as a slave? And the better question...

Why did it feel so right to be touching him in that way?

He had been growling in my ear, threatening to kill me by biting on my jugular, even commenting on how bad I smelled. I had just stood there, tightening my arms around him as if I hadn’t heard him, just asking for him to punish me. So why hadn’t he?

Convincing myself that my behavior was only a cause of the lack of the physical contact I had received throughout my life, I forced my arms to disconnect from his body and drop to my sides. I frowned at how hard it was, like taking two magnets apart.

At my movement, the king leaned back so that our eyes were meeting. It felt strange to look another person in the eyes after staring down for so long, but so good at the same time. I felt lucky to know that the last eyes I would see before death were his magnificent blue ones. He would surely be killing me soon. And then the image of his blue oceans staring down at me would stay with me into death and for the rest of eternity in the afterlife.

I suddenly shook my head slightly to clear my thoughts. I was letting myself get distracted again. Why was that happening so much tonight?

I gave all of my focus back to the king as I waited for what he was going to say next. He didn’t talk for a while, studying me, trying to read me as if I were a book. I felt my body shrink under his intense gaze. I desperately wanted this night to be over. However it was going to end, with me bloodied and bruised, or just simply dead, I wanted it to happen so I could stop feeling so conflicted and confused.

The king’s hand suddenly reached up to cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. I hadn’t even realized that I had been crying. He then reached down and covered my exposed upper half with my undergarment that was still hanging from my waist. I blushed deeply, having completely forgotten that I was basically naked.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the bruises on your sides?” the king asked, moving his hands to cup my own once again. “You have multiple broken ribs. You must be in so much pain.”

My brows knit together in confusion. Wasn’t that the point of the bruises and broken bones? And of being punished? I was supposed to be feeling the pain. I deserved to feel pain.

I thought about the way he had applied poison to the open cuts on my knees. It occurred to me that his obvious preferred method of punishment was to cause pain to already inflicted injuries. He had probably wanted to do something similar to my ribs. It must be expected in the royal kingdom for slaves to state their injuries to their punisher.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wracked my brain over anything else that might be wrong with me so I could tell him. “I-I also have a bruise on my head.”

The king’s eyes narrowed in anger and he immediately lifted me and marched us over to the bed. I gasped in fright from the sudden movement.

He placed me on the edge of the bed once again, standing over me with a scowl on his face. “Show me,” he snapped.

I could feel the presence of his wolf in the energy he was giving off and it scared the absolute crap out of me. I had upset him so much tonight that the fact that he hadn’t shifted yet and let his wolf tear my head off was beyond me. He was close to letting that happen. I couldn’t risk upsetting him anymore.

Assuming he was talking about the bruise I had just mentioned, I reached up and let my hair fall from my bun, placing the hairpin to the side. Then I gently parted my hair where the bruise was so that he could see it. I held back a whimper when even that small movement caused immense pain to shoot behind my eyes and small, black dots in my vision.

The king leaned down to inspect the bruise himself. I tried to hold still.

“Jesus Christ. This isn’t just a bruise,” he spat, venom seeping from his tone. “You have a bump so large on your head that it could be seen from space. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. It’s scabbed over and black and purple.” He placed his hand under my chin and tilted my head up to look at him. He searched my eyes with a concerned expression that confused me. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you have a severe concussion. Especially since you’re human.”

I winced slightly when he said human. Stupid, misbehaving human.

“Concussion?” I asked quietly. I had no idea what that meant. Was it bad?

The king growled and looked back at the bump on my head, bearing his teeth in anger. “Has your head been hurting? Have you been nauseous? Sensitive to the light? Had terrible balance and ringing in your ears?”

My heart rate escalated in realization. I had been experiencing all of those things—and more. It was silly to think about it now, but I thought that all of those symptoms were my body punishing my mind, making it harder for me to do everyday tasks. I thought that even my body was turning against me, deciding that even it didn’t want to be associated with someone like me. I had no idea that all of this was due to an injury to my head.

“How did this happen?” the king demanded.

I knew I had to tell him. He was too angry to disobey him right now. I had to tell him even if I knew he would think less of me afterward.

“I broke...” I choked on a sob creeping up my throat, fighting to get my words out. “I broke a plate,” I said in shame.

The king’s eyes narrowed. “You broke a plate?” he repeated incredulously.

I nodded and hung my head in shame. “Yes. I tripped while doing dishes and dropped it.”

I was suddenly very worried that he was going to punish me for this even though I had already been punished. It wasn’t as if I didn’t deserve it, breaking something that belonged to the pack that took care of me.

When I looked at the king again, he looked angry. Extremely angry. Yes, I was definitely going to be punished.

Looking into his eyes that brought me so much comfort yet also so much fear, I said, “I am so sorry—”

“Stop,” the king’s livid voice interrupted. “I don’t want to hear you apologize,” he snapped.

I sucked in a breath, immediately dropping my gaze at his harsh tone. I had an intense urge to go to my knees and submit to him but was too scared to move.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The voice said in my head. You should just shut up and never speak again. He’s right, you shouldn’t apologize. You don’t deserve forgiveness for the mistakes you have made. You deserve punishment and death.

My body began to shake once again when the king suddenly grabbed my head with both hands and tilted my head even further down than it already was. At first, I thought that he was forcing me into a position of submission, but then I felt his gaze move over the bruise on my head once again. He was surely reexamining my punishment to see if it was harsh enough. Fresh tears of terror rolled from my eyes.

“Tell me exactly how this wound came to be,” his deep voice said gratingly.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.