The Beasts Lullaby
The royal wing of the Bloodgate Fortress was a gilded cage.
My new quarters were completely different from the damp, freezing servant tunnels. I had been given a small, pristine room attached directly to Alpha Silas's massive master suite. There was a real mattress, a warm wool blanket, and a heavy oak door that connected my space entirely to his.
I was his personal maid now. That meant I belonged entirely to the Mad King.
It was past three in the morning. The storm outside was still raging, thunder shaking the thick glass of my single window. I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, fully dressed in my coarse uniform, staring at the connecting door.
I couldn't sleep. The air in my tiny room was practically suffocating, saturated with Silas's heavy, distressed pheromones bleeding through the crack under the door.
He was losing his mind.
For the past three days, ever since the attack in the courtyard, Silas hadn't slept.
He had turned the entire fortress upside down, hunting for the Omega scent that had washed off me in the rain.
His feral inner beast was tearing at his human consciousness, completely obsessed with finding the one mate who could save him.
CRASH.
I jumped, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The violent sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed from Silas's bedroom. It was followed by a low, guttural, demonic growl that didn't sound human at all.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my hands over my ears. Don't go in there, my survival instinct screamed. He's feral. He will tear you apart.
But the wolfsbane pill I had taken hours ago was wearing off slightly.
My suppressed Omega nature—the deeply ingrained, ancient instinct to nurture, soothe, and protect a suffering pack member—was violently clawing its way to the surface.
Hearing an Alpha in pure, agonizing distress was physical torture for an Omega.
Another heavy thud shook the wall. He was destroying his own room.
I couldn't stop myself. My trembling hand reached out, slowly turning the heavy brass doorknob.
I pushed the connecting door open just an inch.
The master suite was a disaster zone. The massive, dark mahogany bookshelf had been completely pulverized. Heavy velvet curtains were shredded. In the center of the massive, four-poster bed, tangled in the dark silk sheets, was Silas.
He was having a night terror.
The terrifying, invincible warlord was stripped down to a pair of loose, dark sleep pants. His massive, heavily scarred chest was heaving erratically, slick with cold sweat. He was thrashing violently against the pillows, his jaw locked in a terrifying grimace.
"Mine," Silas growled in his sleep, his voice a distorted, demonic rasp of pure agony. "Where... where is she?"
His claws had elongated, digging deep into the expensive mattress. The feral beast was completely taking over his mind in the dark. If he woke up in this state, he wouldn't recognize his own guards. He would slaughter anyone who walked into the room.
I should have run. I should have locked my door.
Instead, I stepped barefoot into the freezing master suite.
The strong, blinding scent of the bleach and lye soap I had scrubbed into my skin burned my own nose, but I pushed forward. I walked slowly toward the massive bed, feeling like a rabbit approaching a starving lion.
"Alpha?" I whispered, my voice trembling terribly.
Silas didn't wake up, but his thrashing worsened. A dark, terrifying whine ripped from his throat—the sound of a powerful wolf dying of loneliness.
I reached the edge of the mattress. I didn't think. I let my Omega instincts completely override my fear. I reached out with a trembling, chemical-soaked hand and gently placed my small palm flat against his burning, muscular chest, right over his racing heart.
"Silas," I breathed softly. "It's okay. You're safe."
The reaction was instantaneous and entirely terrifying.
Before I could even blink, Silas's massive hand shot out. His iron grip locked around my wrist. He didn't open his eyes, but his predatory reflexes were completely unmatched. With a single, violent pull, the Mad King yanked me completely off my feet.
I let out a sharp gasp as I was dragged through the air, crashing directly onto the massive mattress.
Before I could even struggle, Silas rolled his massive, impossibly heavy body over mine. He pinned me flat against the silk sheets, his thick, muscular thighs caging my legs, his heavy arms trapping my shoulders.
I was completely paralyzed with fear. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the killing blow.
But the blow never came.
Instead of snapping my neck, the feral, terrifying beast let out a deep, shuddering sigh.
Silas didn't wake up. He simply buried his massive face directly into the crook of my neck.
His hot, ragged breath ghosted across my collarbone.
He wrapped his massive arms entirely around my small frame, pulling me flush against his scorching, hard chest, holding me like I was the most precious, fragile thing in the world.
The violent thrashing stopped completely. His erratic, racing heartbeat slowly began to steady against my chest.
He was calmed. The feral beast inside him, the monster that had been destroying his mind, was instantly soothed by my physical proximity.
I lay completely frozen beneath him, terrified to even breathe. How? The bleach and lye were overpowering. I smelled like industrial cleaner, not an Omega. He shouldn't be comforted by me. He should be disgusted.
But Silas's inner wolf didn't care about the bleach. On a microscopic, spiritual level, his soul had recognized mine, even if his human nose couldn't process it yet.
For hours, I remained trapped beneath the heavy, suffocating warmth of the Mad King. Every time I tried to shift even an inch to escape, his massive arms would instinctively tighten around me, and a low, warning rumble would vibrate in his chest, demanding I stay exactly where I was.
As the first pale rays of morning light crept through the shredded curtains, Silas's breathing finally changed.
He was waking up.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm. When he realized a lowly, bleach-scented servant was in his bed, he was going to execute me for treason.
I felt the exact moment his consciousness returned. His massive frame went completely rigid.
Silas slowly lifted his head from my neck.
I opened my eyes, looking up into a pair of icy, glowing golden irises. The feral madness from the night before was completely gone, replaced by absolute, terrifying clarity. He looked down at me, taking in my small, trembling form entirely trapped beneath him in his bed.
He frowned, his dark brows pulling together. He inhaled deeply.
"Bleach," Silas murmured, his deep morning voice a rough, vibrating rasp. He didn't sound angry. He sounded profoundly confused.
"A-Alpha, I... you were having a nightmare," I stammered frantically, my face burning with absolute panic. "I tried to wake you, but you grabbed me. I swear I didn't mean to cross your boundaries, please don't—"
"Quiet, little mouse," Silas interrupted softly.
He didn't move off me. In fact, he shifted his weight, pressing me deeper into the mattress. His large, calloused hand moved from the sheet, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face.
His golden eyes searched mine, looking for an answer his wolf already knew but his mind couldn't comprehend. Why did the scent of a terrified, chemical-soaked maid quiet the apocalyptic rage in his head?
"You make the voices stop," the Mad King whispered, his tone filled with a dark, obsessive realization.
"Alpha, please let me up. I have to fetch your breakfast—"
"No," Silas growled, his voice dropping to a low, absolute command that completely paralyzed my lungs. His eyes darkened with pure, unapologetic possession. He rested his forehead against mine, his heavy body completely engulfing me. "You aren't going anywhere. Go back to sleep, little mouse."