Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Ophelia could not find it in her life for her to respond. If she did, all of her secrets would unravel. A single name was all he needed, but it'd undo her entire identity. He'd discard her. She had revealed her thoughts about the auction house, but now, her horrid childhood and questionable illegitimate status?

Ophelia had seen it happen. She had witnessed men beat their wives in public for deceit. They had grabbed fistfuls of her hair whilst smacking their own woman. Matriarch Eves took Ophelia there to specifically show her the consequences of disobeying the husband.

'He must never know.'

Ophelia would never forgive herself if something happened to her Papa in the process of Killorn getting revenge. She couldn't envision putting her family in harm, for only Matriarch Eves was cruel to her.

"P-please…" Ophelia begged. "I-I already said enough t-today."

Ophelia could practically see his fury simmering to the surface. His patience was thinning. She had not only interrupted him, but also disobeyed him.

Killorn sharply frowned. "Ophelia, a name is all I need. Nothing else, nothing more. Just a single word, okay?"

Ophelia shook her head. Suddenly, Killorn's arms went slack around her. Her eyes widened in fear and he took a frustrated step back. Running a hand through his hair, he turned and hid his face from her.

"M-my lord…?" Ophelia weakly said, trying to step around to see his expression. All she saw was his furrowed brows and irritated glower before he sharply swiveled to the other side to hide his expression.

In fear that Ophelia offended or upset him further, she quickly reached for him, but her hand froze mid-air. She didn't want to come off as a clingy wife. He already was disgruntled by her as it was. For once, she abandoned her logic.

Without warning, Ophelia threw herself upon his back. He tensed faster than a predator getting ready to pounce. Hugging him was like wrapping her arms around a boulder. She couldn't even fathom the fingertips of her two hand touching, for he was large and muscular.

Ophelia was worried he'd abandon her. Not to mention, there was a mistress in the estate now…

Roselind, her older sister by just two years, always gave Ophelia the silent treatment when she was irritated. Ophelia knew that kind of people should be given space. That is the only way for their rage to die down, but she was frightened and wanted reassurance that he was still here with her.

"Unhand me," he demanded, his voice gruff, but she heard a slight… confusion? As if his anger was simmering down?

Ophelia quickly took hold of this moment. She stubbornly shook her head, knowing he felt it. She pressed her face tightly into his stiff back. Being this close to him, she could smell his masculine scent washing over her like a powerful tide. She tried to not breathe it in, but it was quite difficult. He smelled of crisp winter, a mixture of clean linen and sun-kissed trees.

Ophelia was fully aware of her shamelessness. She was almost naked, her body pressing against his tightly. She was a monkey clinging onto him for dear life. She'd climb him like a tree if she must.

"If you do not—"

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.

Ophelia gasped. Immediately, she hopped off her husband. She turned to the door, not even realizing his hand subconsciously reached for her immediately. She was confused by his bewildered expression. Then, she glanced down and saw his slightly outreached hands. Huh?

'Fuck, I didn't treasure it fast enough,' Killorn bitterly thought to himself. It was the first time Ophelia held onto him with as much desperation as he often did with her. Frowning deeply to himself, his anger was cast towards the door.

"Alpha?"

Killorn let out a multiple string of curses. Ophelia's ears bled from his profanity. He sharply turned to the door, holding back a furious growl. Could he have a single uninterrupted night with his wife?! For god's sake, he had just come home with her. Couldn't they give him a break?

Once again, their conversation had been cut short.

Ophelia wanted to dig a hole and bury herself on the spot. In fact, she wanted to nail her own coffin shut from the inside. What was he going to comment about her appearance? She must've looked hideous in this gown, it didn't match her complexion. She was reminded of Matriarch Eve's comments about her features. Ophelia was ugly through and through.

Immediately, Ophelia's shoulders shrunk.

"Who is it?" Killorn barked at the door, furious again.

"The bath you ordered, Alpha." Cora called out in a firm tone.

Killorn scowled. The aging woman couldn't have come at a better time. He turned to his wife and opened his mouth, knowing she valued her modesty far too much to let anyone see her in her undergarments like this. Killorn opened his mouth and turned to his wife. "Put on your dress—"

Ophelia glanced at the item. His gaze followed her. A short silence ensued and she stared at him with a quiet blink.

"—nevermind then," he awkwardly mumbled.

Without warning, Killorn scooped and carried her into his arms bridal style. She squealed in shock, holding onto his shoulders tightly and carried her onto the bed where she could hide herself and not go into the closet for another pair of gowns for him to rip through. He broodingly stared down at her with a sternness that made her freeze.

Ophelia saw the glint in his eyes. He was irritated that his session was interrupted. He turned, but the tent in his trousers was prominent. Nothing could hide the proud member. He began to help her undo the curtains, then paused and took a whiff of the air.

Suddenly, a ferocious and possessive growl ripped through the air.

"You are to remain here, unseen and heard, or so help me god, Ophelia."

Ophelia blinked. Was he too embarrassed by the sight of her? She hung her head, just as he undid the curtain ties. The thick material fell all around the bed, shrouding her in mystery. With each passing second, her shoulders grew heavier. Shame filled her from deep within. Guilt stabbed her in the heart as she weakly laid on the bed.

Ophelia touched her ugly hair and then her eyes. If only there was something she could do about it…

Killorn stormed to the doors and threw them open. He wasn't surprised by who was there. Two serfs showed up with their head bowed, but they were men. Greedy ones too, for they had the audacity to sniff the air and tilted their head, almost recognizing the sweetness that resembled freshly baked bread. It made them go a bit dazed, their hands nearly slipping and dropping the metal buckets of hot water.

"Make it quick," Killorn snarled, his patience thinning, for men had entered the room.

The servants jumped at his voice. The air around them thickened. His presence was a force to be reckoned with. The atmosphere became more difficult to breathe. The serfs quickly opened the door to the bathroom, not once daring to look at the bed where the young maiden must've been.

"Use the entire manpower in the estate if possible, but next time, I only want maids bringing in the water, not men, Cora." Killorn sharply turned to the housekeeper.

"The water buckets were extremely heavy and the maids were tending to the meal downstairs. It's my mistake. Tomorrow onwards, I'll ensure only women workers will bring in the bathing water, Alpha," Cora responded seriously, bowing her head and taking accountability for this problem.

Killorn narrowed his eyes. It barely appeased his anger, for he saw the men trip on their steps to fetch the other buckets from outside the door.

"This scent…" one of the werewolves whispered to the other one, who roughly nudged him to shut the hell up. Did he want to die this early on? Before his life even began?

None of the werewolves had ever smelled something this sweet. It was nearly driving them crazy. Their mouths were watering and they couldn't understand. The more time that passed, the more intoxicating the scent became.

"What?" Killorn snarled, daring them to comment on it.

"R-right away, Alpha…" Lucky for them, the servants were smart enough to value their lives rather than respond with curiosity.

Their Alpha Mavez was a force to be reckoned with. No one dared to offend him—especially after the Forest of Blood incident. Even now, sometimes, there were black spots in the forest, from where blood had dried and never cleansed.

Quickly, the men poured the hot water into the enormous porcelain bathtub, working efficiently without missing a beat.

Killorn watched as one of them turned over the bamboo basket, allowing flowers to fall into the water. At least Cora made sure the water was suitable for a lady like Ophelia.

Five minutes passed and finally, things were all set. Killorn slammed the doors in their faces, his chest tense with anger. He ought to warn all of the men in his pack. Everyone was smart enough to not touch his territory, but smelling the air around her? That was off-limits too.

Killorn gritted his teeth. Those bastards. They knew she was in here. They wanted to look at Ophelia.

"A-are they g-gone?" Ophelia shakily asked, poking her head out.

With her hair let down, her rounded shoulders bare for him to see, and her eyes large, Ophelia was far too beautiful for anyone to admire, but him.

"M-my lord?" Ophelia mumbled.

Killorn's fingers curled into fists by his side. He felt an inhumane urge to mark her. He shouldn't. She would be frightened to death. It had to be done—human or not. Everyone was eyeing her like she was some fresh meat.

Killorn approached his wife. He clenched and unclenched his fist. She was too exquisite, with her large and foreign eyes, and silvery hair. The colder climate of the north made her locks shine unnaturally. He didn't mind, in fact, he loved the color.

"Come here," he gruffly said, grabbing her waist. He pulled her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. Her eyes widened at how large and grand this place was, with marbled flooring, varnished walls that were well-decorated with flower pots, and the likes.

Ophelia's heart skipped at his tender touch. He was a completely different man from before. She peered up at his mesmerizing features. His brows were still furrowed and his lips twisted into a scowl, but he didn't seem annoyed at her. In fact, it looked as if he was… mad at himself?

"Wait." Killorn placed her onto her feet, whereas Ophelia was still trying to process his emotions.

What did that even mean? Why would he be mad at himself earlier? Ophelia was pulled away from her thoughts by the sound of fabric hitting the floor. She turned her head and gasped. He had Stripped. All. The. Way.

Killorn was stark naked, down to his enormous member that stood at attention for her.

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Author Note (June 17, 2022): After being knocked down by a fever, flu, and food poisoning, I've made it back! It's been a crazy few weeks for me and I'm still recovering. Updates will be 1 chapter for this month and resume to double updates in July. Thank you for your patience and understanding! I really appreciated your warm wishes, thank you <3