Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Chapter 154  Cruelest Addiction

The days after the war flew by in a blink. The kingdom was attempting to rebuild after the resources lost in the battlefield, and the nation was slowly accepting the idea of a Crown Princess. The hierarchy between humans, werewolves, and vampires remained the same, as all things should've been.

Eventually, the country entered that sweet period of peace after war where everyone agreed to not murder each other—for now. Pack Mavez continued renovating and fixing the damaged infrastructure, starting from the mansion to the small villages surrounding the dukedom.

Ophelia spent her time touring the renovation to monitor progress in place of Killorn who was overseeing training. In her free time, she'd entertain the children with the hopes of distracting them from their busy parents and the reconstruction equipment.

"You smell different, Luna," a little boy said, sniffing up at her in curiosity.

"I've also noticed!" another quickly jumped in. "Since last week!"

Ophelia placed down the book she was reading to the children. They were gathered in a small opening away from the town and chaos. She slowly blinked and revealed a confused smile. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"How so?" Ophelika asked.

"I don't know…" the same boy mumbled, his brows coming together. "Like… the Alpha, but much more?"

Ophelia brushed it off, her cheeks flushing a bit. Perhaps, she was spending way too many nights and mornings entangled in the sheets with Killorn. Despite his busy mornings and exhaustive afternoons, he always had the stamina for an endless night. He was insatiable, coming back from teaching soldiers to the warmth of his wife, leaving her exhausted for hours on end.

"It's time for lunch," Ophelia teased, rising to her feet alongside the children. "Off you all go now."

The kids laughed amongst themselves, noticing her embarrassment, but did so anyway, their bellies rumbling, and their steps quick with a bounce. Ophelia walked behind them, for her human legs could never match the speed of such werewolf pups. She took her time, relishing under the warmth of the sun, the sway of the tree branches, and the earthiness filling her nose. Her heart was at content as life could be, surrounded by those who cared for her, and forgetting about the life she lived to get there. Ophelia kept the truth of her childhood away from Killorn. There was nothing they could do to change the past. Ophelia never wanted to seek vengeance against her grandmother for all of the years of pain. She couldn't bear the sight of the elderly in agony.

Ophelia would never be satisfied with the idea of revenge on her own family. If her hands were ever stained with the blood of her own relatives, Opehlia would not know what to do with herself.

"Boo!"

Ophelia jumped at the presence of Layla who popped into view. Lost in thought, Ophelia didn't realize she had made it to the town center.

"Careful, Layla," a stern voice warned from beside Layla.

Layla rolled her eyes at Beetle who was carrying all of her equipment and books. "Luna," Beetle acknowledged, his voice low and hesitant, his attention flickering to the floor. "Beetle," Ophelia greeted with a slight smile, but he couldn't meet her gaze. Since the incident, Beetle had kept his distance from Ophelia, no matter how many times she pardoned him. His previous, cheery nature only resurfaced around Killorn, Gerald, and the packmen, but he'd be closed off around women in general. Though the latter, Ophelia suspected, was because of Layla's narrowed glare.

"Where are you headed for?" Layla asked. "I'll walk with you."

Ophelia opened her mouth, and paused when she spotted Maribelle. She was planning to wave, but saw her heavily engrossed in a conversation with Gerald. He was rubbing the back of his neck as Maribelle wrapped her arms around his bicep. Ophelia glanced to the side, smiling to herself and pretending to not have seen the interaction.

"Now, that's an unlikely pairing," Layla whistled, looping her arm through Ophelia's. They shared a glance before bursting out laughing at the irony of Layla's statement. A werewolf and a werewolf was the most natural of matches. But a human and a werewolf? Now, that was looking for trouble.

"I-I've just finished reading to the children," Ophelia stated. "Now, I'm heading back for lunch."

"I fear Killorn would not be able to join you, Luna," Beetle explained to her as the three began to advance in the direction of the mansion. "A squadron of newly trained soldiers was caught slacking off yesterday, and now, Killorn is overseeing their punishment training."

Ophelia softly frowned at his words. She wanted to eat with Killorn and hear about his day. Most mornings, they'd wake up in each other's arms after a passionate night. Sometimes, after a particularly long night, Ophelia slept in and he was already off to his morning duties. Today was one of those days

"I'll wait for him then," Ophelia decides once they've reached the mansion entrance. "You two go and eat without me."

Layla bobbed her head as she walked off, Beetle quickly following after her like a lost puppy. The sight made Ophelia smile. All of Layla's initial worries almost washed into nothingness. If anything, Layla seemed to be the one holding the leash in this relationship. Beetle hovered over her as one would for their most precious treasure.

Ophelia began ascending the staircases when she heard a loud commotion from behind her. She spun at the sight of Gerald grumbling over something and Maribelle scoffing in disbelief.

"So what if you can run faster than me?" Maribelle demanded, slapping her chest in irritation. "When it comes to swordfighting, I am more nimble and can beat any man twice my size!"

"That's not the point," Gerald deadpanned. "Speed will never outpower strength. You may have the upper hand, but it is still dangerous for you—"

"So you're worried about me," Maribelle teased with a bright grin. She hung onto his arm, blocking his path and popping into his line of sight when he tried to glance away in embarrassment.

"Of course, I would be," Gerald muttered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know…" Maribelle continued in a sing-song voice. "One might mistake your care for adoration—"

"Luna," Gerald interrupted her, his attention falling on her instantly. He loudly cleared his throat and straightened up, almost puffing his chest out.

"H-hello," Ophelia giggled under her breath, noticing how red his ears had grown and how awkward he seemed to be as if caught red-handed by her.

"Aren't you going to join us for lunch?" Maribelle said, grinning when she realized someone had seen their bantering. She wanted more people to know, but Gerald was always a private buffoon.

"I-I'll wait for Killorn. For now, I'll put this book back," Ophelia said, holding up the item and departing as Maribelle smirked at the idea and Gerald slowly nodded.

Lately, Maribelle always poked and jabbed at Ophelia's attachment to Killorn. When the two weren't together, the husband and wife often spoke of each other without realizing it. Ophelia could be studying in the library when she would accidentally write Killorn's name on her parchment. Or, Killorn would be overseeing the construction and quietly comment how something reminded him of his wife or was similar to her. Everyone seemed to know it, but the husband and wife themselves.

"Hah…" Ophelia felt out of breath just from a few flights of stairs. The air was warmer and spring was quickly coming, but she had felt more and more tired these days. Her vision grew dizzy and she steadied herself on the railings.

Feeling light-headed, Ophelia went to their bedroom to rest and catch her breath. She laid the book on the nightstand and hurriedly plopped down. Relief flooded Ophelia instantly, and she wondered if she had been out in the sun for way too long. Unable to help herself, Ophelia closed her eyes to regain her grasp on her vision. She blinked a few times and then curled into a ball, finding herself exhausted and sleepy.

Soon, Ophelia's breathing evened, and her mind wandered to what could've caused her recent need to take things slow. She wondered if she had gotten sick, but that was impossible, as no one around her was coughing. Werewolves always recovered faster than humans, and it would've been quite difficult for illness to linger.

Time trickled by, and soon, Ophelia was stirred awake by a soft shake.

"Ophelia," a quiet yet hardened voice beckoned at her, his grip warm on her shoulder. Ophelia groaned in protest, but her eyelids snapped open in realization. She shot upright, dumbfounded and confused. "W-what…"

The bed dipped as Killorn sat down beside her, his worried expression melting at her slight pout. She rubbed her eyes and yawned like a lazy cat.

"You shouldn't sleep without a blanket, my sweet wife," Killorn muttered as he lightly pushed her back onto the bed and slid in after her. She blinked up at him in confusion, his chest swelling at her oblivion.

"I-I was going to close my eyes for only a few seconds and wait to eat lunch with you… I didn't mean to fall asleep," Ophelia sheepishly said as he gathered her in his arms.

Killorn chuckled, pressing a fond kiss on her cheek. "You've slept the entire afternoon away. Next time, eat without me."

"B-but I wanted to hear about your day," Ophelia mumbled.

Killorn quirked a brow. "You know, I heard a funny thing this afternoon." Ophelia lit up instantly as she felt disappointment leave her body. Her emotions felt all over the place recently, but she tried her best to keep it at bay. "What did you hear?"

"There's an Alpha addicted to a human girl," Killorn mused, staring upon his wife whose belongings were found everywhere in their bedroom. Her pearl earrings laid on their vanity, her amethyst necklaces strung on the surface, her perfumes in odd places, and her books on almost every furniture. The room that used to smell entirely of him was now sweet and floral as long strands of her hair always littered their bed and floor.

"A-an Alpha addicted to a human girl?" Ophelia repeated in disbelief, realizing she had heard the same thing from Layla. "D-do you think it's true?" Killorn scoffed as if the question was rhetorical. He pulled her close, until her legs were entangled with his, and her chest pressed against his. He leaned close to her, until he saw his reflection in her shimmering gaze.

"Such a pairing would make the cruelest of matches, for the human girl will never know the extent of the werewolf's addiction," Killorn whispered, his voice growing low, careful to never startle his timid wife. He curled a finger under her chin, raising her face towards his.

Ophelia's heart fluttered at his words, as he captured her mouth in a sweet, sensual kiss. In the security of his muscular arms, and surrounded by his scent, Ophelia felt the safest. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them, tangled in each other's embrace. A quiet confession filled the silence, uttered by a husband who could never let his wife go. "It's true," he finally admitted. "You are my cruelest addiction, Ophelia."

- - - - -

Fin.