Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Chapter 108  You Must Run

Killorn couldn't even look her in the eyes. His shame and remorse tied his tongue. He couldn't speak a single word to her—not even an apology. This proud and arrogant man had never lowered his shoulders, even when he was the weakest son.

Killorn was a Duke by nature, title, and blood. He had no income as a boy, was ridiculed and insulted by high society, but never once begged for their help. His own brothers turned their back on him when he was a young wolf. Now, they were dead.

His father was not a kind man. He was greedy and spent more money on his mistresses than on his dukedom. The Dukedom under his father's regime had greatly starved, with an alarming rate of death. They barely got by with potatoes and the servants were given the peels.

Even then, Killorn never begged for help. He grew up stubborn, and now, he did just as he feared—harmed his own wife.

"You don't mean it," Killorn murmured whilst reaching for her.

As Ophelia relinquished in her own words, Killorn saw her brief hesitation. His blank and pained expression must've affected her. In an instant, her lips trembled. She opened her mouth as if going to take her words back. But then, she angrily glanced to the ground. "Let me bathe you," Killorn finally said after a prolonged silence. "I will not touch you, Ophelia. I just need to make sure there are no wounds other than that scratch."

Ophelia stumbled backward. She couldn't fathom him touching her in this intimate matter. Not after what he had done. How could he dream of touching her skin after throwing her body to the dogs?

"You do not deserve to know," Ophelia mumbled.

Then, Ophelia quickly headed for the door. He grabbed her wrists, his palms warm and loose. She dug her feet to the ground and defiantly stared up at him.

Killorn was at a loss of what to say. His heart was splitting at her rejection. All of these emotions were too new for him. He rubbed his chest in confusion, not understanding it.

"I won't do it again," Killorn promised her in a defeated and somber voice. "I swear, Ophelia."

'Do what? Throw me to the dogs? Bathe me? Touch me?' She bitterly thought to herself. 'A great man like you begging… what should be done?'

Ophelia's heart began to move. She had never seen a great man like him beg. His shoulders were double her size and his body frame large. He could take on goblins triple his width and slice them like butter. But when it came to a little thing like her, he seemed to struggle.

"Just one last chance," Killorn coaxed in a tender tone.

Ophelia's heart skipped at the warmth. She pressed her lips together. He had protected her before. He had done everything he could to ensure her vengeance. Her heart began to wane.

"You'll let Layla walk free."

Killorn stilled. Was that a compromise? All that he was asking from his wife was to check her wounds! He scrutinized her. She was freezing. Her hair color reacted to the climate, bright as snow at this point from being in the extreme temperature. Her lavender eyes glowed and reflected his stormy expression.

Ophelia had stopped stuttering. Killorn wanted to ask more, but knew it wasn't the right time for it. But how? When? All of it wasn't making sense. "What?" Killorn deadpanned.

"Layla," Ophelia pressed. Ophelia could not tear her eyes from his handsome and roguish man. Killorn could rip her in two. He was enormous and towered over her. Despite how muscular and strong he was, he was beginning to concede.

"S-she helped us," Ophelia insisted.

"Ophelia, you do not understand. The Overlords made their order that you—"

"T-then let me go." Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Layla will walk free," Killorn immediately said. He snaked his arms across her spine at an inhumane speed. Bending his head, Killorn attempted to kiss her fondly, but she was already dodging him. She shoved at his mouth and face, writhing to escape from him.

"Ophelia—"

Ophelia sauntered into the bathroom, where he immediately followed behind like some lost puppy. Killorn raised his head to see her already approaching the bathtub. Before he could speak, Ophelia was already taking her clothes off. Killorn could only watch at the mesmerizing feeling. Ophelia felt like an auction slave all over again. She had just sold her body to get something. She had never felt more shame. She would never blame the women who couldn't control their fates and had to do the same. When she was put in their shoes, she understood their struggles.

Ophelia's shoulders trembled as the dress dropped to her feet. She took off her undergarments and hugged it to her chest. Then, she sullenly glanced over her shoulders.

"Are you not joining me, my lord husband?"

Killorn could barely think straight. Amidst the sway of the fireplace, he was enraptured by her beauty. The flames danced on her pale skin, making her hair shine like crystals. Her lithe body was barely covered, revealing her slender legs, creamy thighs that he wanted to bite into, and her breasts, my god, he had never seen something more lovely than her. His throat tightened. His groin woke up instantly. He wanted to slide right into her warmth and hear her sweet cries all over again.

"You…" Killorn couldn't finish his sentence.

Killorn wanted to devour what belonged to him. She was so enchanting and he was so eager. Every cell in his body reacted to her naked stature. If nymphs truly existed, he'd imagine them to look like her, with hair running down half their curved spine, two dimples on their lowerback, and shoulder blades resembling butterfly wings.

Ophelia was enthralling. Killorn knew he couldn't keep his hands off of her in the bathtub. He was only going to terrify her further. Barely able to keep it in his pants, he swiftly turned.

"I've seen enough. Put your clothes back on, I'll bring bandages for your cut."

Then, Killorn was gone. Ophelia didn't know if she should feel insulted or relieved. Did he not find her appealing any longer? He took one hard look at her and immediately averted his attention, as if scorned by her body. She hugged her undergarment to her chest, took a bath, and then went to bed. At night, Ophelia had a strange dream. She began to see the stars and the moon. Strange sounds filled her ears. From the familiar tone, she realized she was speaking. But the world before her was one of astrology and thousands of lines all spinning clockwise in a wheel. Then, she saw a woman who resembled her, but with blood dripping down her legs.

"Run!" the woman cried out, grabbing for Ophelia. "You must run!" The next thing Ophelia knew, she woke up screaming.