FATED TO ALPHA HUNTER BY VENNEH LISAH

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The movement caused me to cringe in pain as my ribs throbbed, and I clenched my teeth to stop myself from crying out. Quick movements always gave me sharp pains and caused my breathing to hitch.

"Sorry, did that hurt?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Don't lie. Why do you lie about being in pain?" he asked while he started to unravel the bandages. Unsure of whether to answer, I remained quiet. I wasn't one to tattle.

"I asked you a question," he said, tapping the side of my leg, making me jump. I blurted out an answer.

"Lucy would double our punishments if we made noise," I murmured. It was always worse if we cried while being punished.

"Is that why you have so many scars?" he asked.

"No, we learned to keep quiet. No matter how well we did our chores, Lucy would always find something to punish us for. We were her slaves," I replied.

I gritted my teeth as the pressure was removed when the bandages went down to the last layer.

"You don't have to be quiet, Ania. I won't punish you for being in pain. You would have to do something pretty extreme for me to want to punish you," he murmured.

"Can you lift your arms above your head?" he asked, and I tried to lift both arms, but the left one pulled at my side, making my arms tremble.

"What happened to your ribs and back?" he asked, brushing his fingers against my ribs. I cringed and gritted my teeth, a stifled whimper leaving my lips as he pressed on the worst one.

"That's enough; it looks like you have broken this side. How did you do that?" he asked.

"I fell down the stairs, sir," I told him.

"When did it happen?" he asked.

"The day we arrived?" I replied.

"Have you been working for two days with broken ribs and didn't say anything?" he asked, astonished.

I chose to remain silent. "Ania, you can't be expected to work like this if you're in pain," he stated.

"I'll manage; it's fine," I told him.

"No, you will stay in here with me, so I know you're resting," he instructed firmly.

"It's not necessary; I can still work," I urged.

"It's not up for debate. You will stay with me," King Arman said firmly, grabbing a jar of ointment and applying it to my cuts. I remained still while he cleaned the markings that had been branded onto my skin. My face heated up as he touched me, and I felt dirty and embarrassed that he, my king, was touching me, his servant.

Although the feeling of his skin on mine was oddly warm, my skin tingled everywhere he touched. It felt exactly the same way I used to feel when Hunter touched me. He moved behind me, and the bed dipped more.

"Stay there," he said before climbing off the bed and walking over to his dresser. He grabbed a black shirt out of the drawer and climbed back on the bed, retaking his place behind me.

"I think you should leave the bandage off and let it get some air," he said before I felt his fingers pinch my bra, releasing the hooks. I shrieked and covered myself before feeling his breath on my neck.

"Shh, Ania, I can't see you," he whispered. I stiffened at his closeness, feeling the heat radiating off his chest and seeping into my back. His nose skimmed along my shoulder to the back of my ear, and his hand on my stomach pulled me closer to him.

"I love your scent," he whispered. Tingling sensations flooded over me, and I sucked in a breath. He suddenly cleared his throat, pulling his face away from me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to... you just smell nice," he said.

"It's fine, sir," I told him, a little startled that he admitted to sniffing me and thinking I smelled nice. Most Rogues smelled awful to pack wolves, but then again, he was a vae-wolf, so who knows.

"Arman," he murmured.

"Pardon, Sir," I exclaimed.

"My name, it is Arman. Say it, Ania," he said behind me. I shook my head at his words, looking toward the door.

"Say my name, Ania. I won't let anyone punish you for using my name," he said before sliding my bra straps down my arms, placing it beside him, and tugging a shirt over my head.

As his fingertips grazed the sides of my breasts, I couldn't help but shiver. He had just gotten out of the dresser with a black shirt and I looked down at it before taking a sniff. His scent made my mouth water.

"Do I smell nice?" he asked with a soft laugh.

"Yes, like vanilla and passion," I told him before slapping a hand over my mouth, embarrassed by my blurted-out words. It was strange that he had the same scent as Hunter.

He laughed softly, his fingers fiddling with my ponytail before he gently removed my hair tie. My hair fell to my waist, and he ran his fingers through it, causing me to shiver at the feeling of his fingers on my scalp.

"You still haven't said it yet," he reminded me.

"What have I not said?" I asked.

"My name," he said, and I shook my head.

"I will get you to say it eventually," he taunted playfully.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. I started to get up, but he pulled me back down, his hand moving under his shirt. He rubbed his thumb against my belly as he called out, "Come in, Dwight."

My heart raced as Beta Dwight walked in with a tray of food and glasses filled with ice cubes.

"Where do you want it, Arman?" Dwight asked.

"Please just leave the food tray there," the King said from behind me. My face flushed with embarrassment as King Arman pressed his face into my neck once again. His Beta didn't glance in our direction, as if he expected me to be half undressed and practically sitting on his king's lap. I wondered how many other servants had found themselves in this position. Was this behavior normal, or was it just me? Was this why Janet hated me? Did she see me as her replacement?

"Is there anything else?" Beta Dwight asked him.

"No, that's all. I'll mind-link you if I need anything," the King replied. I watched as his Beta nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him.

"Relax, Ania," the king told me. But I found it near impossible to do so when he could order the guards to kill me at any moment, and they would do so without hesitation. He got off the bed and pulled the tray over, pouring whiskey into a glass.

"Have you ever drank before?" he asked, and I shook my head. That was a lie. I had once drank with Hunter, and from the way the king hummed, he must have sensed the lie.

He handed me the glass, and I sniffed it. "I won't tell if you don't, but it will help with the pain," he said, pointing to my ribs. I took a sip and almost spat it back into the glass. He laughed before pouring the ice from the other cup into my glass.

"There, I watered it down a bit," he said before pouring himself a glass. I sniffed it again and shook my head, trying to pass it back to him. But he added more whiskey to the glass, filling it halfway.

"Drink it," he ordered, and I couldn't help myself. I brought the glass to my lips. He watched me over the rim of his glass, and I coughed when I finished, drinking it all in one go. I wasn't a fan of liquor.

"I'm sorry, I don't like to order you around, but I knew you wouldn't drink it. You may feel a little woozy, but it shouldn't hurt too much," he said. I felt warm and, after a few minutes, relatively heavy.

"Eat," he said, placing the tray between us. The tray was filled with small sandwiches cut into triangles, carrot sticks and dips, along with an assortment of cheeses and different crackers. I ate and then just sat there, doing nothing.

Whenever I tried to leave the room to do my chores, King Arman would call me back and point at his bed. "Rest," he would say before turning back to his work.

Eventually, I gave up trying, so I was relieved when King Arman was called out of the room, giving me a chance to breathe a little. All day long, he had been forcing me to eat and sit, watching him work. As I stuck my head out the door, I quickly walked down the corridor, knowing that I was falling behind on my chores.

I grabbed my cleaning supplies from the downstairs cupboard and headed back to the room. I changed the linens and cleaned the bathroom, cringing in pain with each movement. However, I was glad to be doing something other than watching the king, who spent most of the day observing me instead of working. It made for some awkward stare-offs. The man could stare without blinking while I nervously looked around the room to avoid his gaze, which seemed to amuse him.

When I was done scrubbing the bathroom, I took my cleaning supplies back to the cupboard downstairs before making a quick dash for the servant's bathroom. I desperately needed to pee. I had been holding my bladder all day.

As I relieved myself, I couldn't help but wonder why the guard from upstairs was standing outside the bathroom. When I stepped out, I whispered an apology, but the guard said nothing and just continued to stare at the door. I felt uneasy and wondered if he was there to keep an eye on me.

After returning the cleaning supplies, I noticed the guard following me. I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. Grabbing my dusting cloth and polish, I headed back upstairs, my legs aching from working all day. Thankfully, the guard didn't follow me into the room. He just waited by the door again.

As I looked at all the books on his shelves on the enormous bookcase, I gulped. I scanned my eyes over them, wondering if any were out of place and also trying to remember which book went where. Maybe I shouldn't dust the shelf since the spines were all decorative and in perfect order.

I could hardly read anything as they were all written in Spanish, Arman's kingdom language. I touched one, liking the writing down the spine when I heard his voice behind me, making me jump away from the shelf.

"You can read them," he said, leaning on the doorway to his bedroom as he stared at me. I wondered how long he had been there before he caught me.

"Sorry, my king," I told him, dropping my gaze to the floor. Why did I touch it? I shouldn't have snooped. He walked over to his chaise before sitting on it, and I avoided his gaze.

"Which one were you looking at?" he asked, and I stole a glance at him. He was staring up at the bookcase, and I chewed my lip nervously. His eyes darted to my lips, and I stopped, instead looking down at my hands. Would he punish me for touching them? I had been told to be careful around his books.

Lucy would have beaten me black and blue if I had touched anything of hers. Rogues should know their place, and here I sometimes forgot that I was nothing more than a lowly rogue slave whom the king had taken pity on. I still didn't understand why he hadn't banished or killed us.

"Pass it to me," he said, holding his hand out. I looked at the shelf and reached for the book, but paused. What if it was a trick?

"Pass me the book, Ania. You know I don't like repeating myself," he said softly, but his voice was still firm. I nodded and reached for the book with the golden letters, pulling it from the shelf before handing it to him.

"Ah, Treasure Island," he said, reading the title. I wasn't sure what it said; I just liked the inscription on the side.

"Can you read Spanish?" he asked.

"Not very well," I answered honestly.

"Come here." I looked down at my hands, feeling nervous in his presence suddenly, though he was always friendly and had never hurt either of us. However, I knew he was capable of it if he saw fit. He clicked his tongue, sitting up a little straighter.

"Ania, don't shy away from me now," he said, holding his hand out to me. Staring at his outstretched hand, I moved hesitantly, taking a step toward him. I always felt uneasy around this man. As a rogue, I shouldn't even be in his presence, let alone be allowed to talk to him, let alone touch him.

"Do you want me to command you?" he asked, and I looked at his face to find him smiling. His smile was breathtaking, and his eyes sparkled back at me.

Chewing my lip, I shook my head and walked over to him before he reached out and gripped my wrist. He pulled me onto his lap, and I sat awkwardly before attempting to get off him. "My king," I exclaimed when he tugged me against him.

"I hate that you keep calling me King," he told me.

"But you are, and I shouldn't be sitting on your lap," I replied, attempting to hop off. However, his hand on my stomach prevented me from leaving.

"Enough, Ania. No one can see us. It's just you and me in here," he said, looking around.

"But, my king," I began to object when he suddenly grabbed my chin between his fingers and tilted my face towards his. Sparks rushed over my skin, and I forgot how to breathe. I held my breath at the sensation, one that I thought only Hunter was capable of making me feel.

"Arman, you can call me Arman," he told me, his face so close that his breath fanned my lips. Suddenly, I started feeling light-headed, and he brushed his thumb across my bottom lip, tugging it down slightly.

"Breathe, Ania. I don't want you to pass out on me," he said, before swallowing and keeping his eyes on my lips. I let out a breath, and his lips tugged in the corners before he let me go.

"Do you want me to read it to you?" he asked, and I sat up.

"No, I couldn't possibly ask that; I'm sure you're too busy," I replied.

"That's not what I asked, Ania. Calm down. Your heart is racing. I won't hurt you," he reassured me. He then abruptly moved, turned me onto his lap, and pulled my legs up over his.