The cursed King's Captive: A Mate In Disguise

Jules POV

Lucian spoke, spun around, and walked out, slamming the door behind him. The sound sent chills up my spine; it felt so final.

I was alone again, but the silence that he left behind felt heavier.

The sun was starting to set; the dark purple sky was gloomy and it reminded me how I can faintly hear laughing and voices in the distance. The guards were talking about something that sparked my interest-something that gave me hope.

"They must be done with the meeting," one guard said, his voice faint through the door. "Now it's the after party. The Alpha loves to celebrate."

This would be my chance. Once the party started, people would start to celebrate and they would be more distracted. I would be able to slip away. I just had to figure out how long I had, but it had to be enough.

I walked towards the door, my heart pounding, every step slow and careful. I reached the door, pressed my ear against the wood and listened. Nothing, no voices, no footsteps. Maybe the guards were preoccupied with the party. Or maybe, they weren't watching.

I turned toward the window and looked out. The drop was too far-if I jumped, I'd probably hurt myself badly. That wasn't an option. I needed another way out, and fast.

I gently turned the door handle, moving as quietly as I could, and opened it just enough to slip through. The air was too still, like the quiet before something bad happened. I took one cautious step forward, then froze.

Just a few feet ahead, two guards were standing, speaking in low voices. They were smoking, the red tips of their cigarettes glowing. I held my breath, hoping they wouldn't see me.

One of them spoke first. "What do you think the Alpha wants with that boy, Jules?"

I froze. Me? They were talking about me.

The other guard puffed on his cigarette, his voice low and skeptical. "I don't really know. But that boy... there's something off about him. He doesnt look like a boy, more like a" He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "More like a-well, I don't know. Something's just weird. Doesn't sit right."

The first guard chuckled darkly. "Yeah, you mean to say he's pretty. I pity him, honestly. When he gets back to our pack... he'll regret being born."

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. The words hit me like a slap. They were talking about me like I was nothing, like I was a thing, not even worth being treated like a person. I clenched my fists, the anger rising within me. But that wasn't what hurt the most.

What stung was how they said it. When he gets back to our pack, like I was already marked for something far worse. I hadn't done anything wrong. I wasn't some criminal or spy. I had just been trying to escape one nightmare and found myself in another.

I took a step back, my mind racing. How have I gotten here? How had it all gone so wrong? I had no idea what King Lucian wanted with me, but it wasn't good. I could feel it in my bones.

I couldn't stay here. I had to leave.

I turned and walked quickly but quietly down the hallway, looking for a way out that didn't have guards. I needed to move fast-if they caught me now, who knew what they'd do. The front entrance was packed with guards, and I couldn't go that way.

I had to find another path, something that would let me sneak out without anyone seeing me. The longer I stayed, the more trapped I felt. I couldn't waste time. I had to think clearly.

The more I thought, the more afraid I got. I had no friends here. No one would come to help me. It was just me, alone in this awful place, with no easy way out. I had to run.

As I moved, my mind raced with ideas, but none seemed right. I had to act fast or I'd miss my only chance to be free. "Please, let there be a way out."

I pressed my back to the cold wall, breathing shallow. Every footstep felt loud. I moved as quietly as I could, keeping low, eyes scanning around me. My heart beat so loud it felt like it could give me away.

I had left the main hallway, but now I realized I had messed up badly. The place was confusing, full of turns, and every door looked the same. I felt lost-no matter which way I went, it just pulled me in deeper.

My boots barely made a sound as I crept up the stairs, every muscle tight with fear. Behind me, I heard the sharp clank of armor bouncing off the walls-too close. Panic filled me. I needed a place to hide.

At the top of the stairs, I rushed to the first door I saw and slipped inside, closing it softly behind me. My fingers brushed a small key hanging beside the frame.

I turned it with a soft click and held my breath.

Silence.

I backed away slowly, eyes scanning the dim space. The room was empty-or so I thought. Then I heard it.

A moan. Soft. Breathless.

I stopped, my ears straining.

Another sound followed-the wet, unmistakable sound of lips meeting. My breath hitched. Someone else was here.

I moved closer, compelled by some intangible thing, maybe curiosity, maybe fear, or maybe a bit of both. Then I saw it: a faint golden glow filtering through an opening in the wall. A hidden door. A secret room.

I crept quietly and went to the edge and put my fingers on the panel. The panel moved to the side and there was a narrow, draped room in velvet no larger than a wardrobe. The glow was from a candle illuminating deep, plush rugs and thick, silky pillows.

And there on the cushions was him.

King Lucian.

His cloak was tossed to the side and his hand was firmly holding a woman once again around her waist. Her back was arched, her breasts heaved as she gasped for air. His fingers were slick with her desire, glistening as they slipped between her folds. I was entranced watching, when he slid two fingers deep inside her pussy, and his thumb was swirling around her clit.

"Fuck, Lucian," she moaned, her voice a low, throaty growl. "Don't stop."

His lips curled into a wicked smile. "I have no intention of stopping, my dear. Not until you're crying out my name."

I bit my lip and tried to repress the sudden flood of heat building between my own legs. My pussy throbbed, wet and aching, I didn't even know why. I didn't even know this woman and watching her writhe under his hands had me on the edge of an orgasm.

I hesitated torn between wanting to leave and needing to know what it felt like to have his hands on me.

I told myself to look away, leave, shut the panel but I didn't. I couldn't.

The mate bond still clung to me like thorns, even after he'd shattered it with that cold, brutal rejection. It should have been breaking by now. It should have been dissolving, fraying like old thread. But it hadn't. Not fully.

Because as I stood there, hidden in the shadows, watching the man who'd called me an assassin and collared me like a beast-I still felt him.