Reborn for Revenge: Find her Fated Alpha-Chapter 27: Sleeping problem again

Amelia’s eyelashes fluttered as she looked at the King from under her lashes, unsure how to address the situation.

The last time she slept on the bed, the King was not present, and he left before she was awake.

He had not been at the palace for the last three days, so they didn’t have to worry about sleeping settings.

However, now that the King was standing at the doorway, observing her every action like a predator ready to pounce, she didn’t know what to say.

Amelia’s body was still aching from the wounds. Though a lantern, her healing ability was lower this time than the last time she remembered.

Was it because the wounds were deeper this time or because she didn’t prepare the decoctions herself?

Amelia licked her bottom lip and tried to stand from the bed. Her throat had become dry repetitively in just a few minutes because of the medicine she had to eat and the heat building in her body.

"Where are you going?" King Cyrus’s voice caught her attention.

"Water," She said.

King Cyrus walked closer to her.

Amelia stopped moving, her legs dangling from the bed as she sat there, her body almost freezing when the man nearly stood with her between his legs.

He bent, making her breath hitch. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

However, he pressed a button beside the bed rather than doing anything to her.

"Bring the water," Cyrus said through the intercom, tilting his head to look at the girl.

"Have I been too indulgent with you?" The king asked. Amelia looked down at her hands.

She didn’t know what he was asking about or how to answer him.

It was true that she was assured he wouldn’t kill her because she was still his wife, and he thought he had some duty against her, but it didn’t mean Cyrus wasn’t a calculating and manipulative man who knew how to bend the rules to his favor.

"I will take the sofa," Amelia whispered.

Cyrus didn’t say anything this time.

He remembered the last time he was forced to take the sofa because she was sprawled on the bed.

He sized her up silently. Her form should fit on that sofa.

Her face reminded him of his failure to show Dominic his place. He could escape this crime because Amelia was a healer, someone already hated by the kingdom.

The more he looked at her, the more frustrated he felt.

"It’s good that you know your place," He said.

Amelia nodded before she stood from the bed and walked towards the sofa.

Miss Quinn arrived with the water, her gaze shifting to the girl walking to the sofa.

"Princess, what are you doing there? Don’t worry about your studies right now. You should focus on healing first," Miss Quinn noticed the books on the table and naturally thought the girl wanted to study because she was an academic prodigy and loved to read.

She ushered the girl towards the bed.

Amelia, well aware of the sharp gaze that followed her every step, removed her hand from Miss Quinn’s hands.

"I have to check a decoction that will help me heal faster," Amelia lied.

Thinking it was for the best of the girl, Miss Quinn left shortly, and Amelia sighed in relief.

She lay on the sofa, her sides hurting every time they rubbed against the side of the couch.

Due to the medicines she took, it wasn’t hard for her to sleep, unlike King Cyrus, who was deep in thought, thinking about the girl.

He looked at her sleeping form, the soft whimpers leaving her mouth whenever she would turn around.

The furrow in her brows was a clear indication that she was having a nightmare, probably a PTSD reaction to everything.

He suddenly felt a little guilty, his gaze deepening when he saw her shuffling to the edge of the sofa to avoid hitting her left hand, which was wounded severely.

Cyrus kept looking at the girl, wondering if she would wake up when her body hit the ground.

"Aren’t you being too much?" His wolf, Sylas, who rarely talked to him, said, and Cyrus couldn’t help but quirk his brows.

He poured a glass of wine for himself before taking a sip.

"Feeling sorry for the girl?" he asked.

Sylas didn’t say anything for quite some time before he grumbled unwillingly.

"She is our wife, whether you like it or not," Sylas said before he went completely silent, staying back in the mind space of King Cyrus.

He had a beyond-powerful wolf, the actual reason behind his untamed powers.

While people, especially his family, thought he never changed into his wolf form, the truth was that he changed into his wolf form quite a few times when he was a teenager. His wolf forbade him from telling anyone anything; he never came out after that.

Whenever he turned, it felt like he was missing something, like a piece of puzzle, and the emptiness in his heart ate him from inside.

He always asks his wolf why he doesn’t come outside anymore. Sometimes, he receives silence from the other end, but sometimes, when his wolf is in the mood to share, it tells him that he feels empty inside like a part of him is missing, and without that, turning feels useless. It’s almost as if something is stopping him.

"What do you want me to do?" Cyrus asked no one in particular. He knew his wolf wouldn’t answer anymore, and he kept looking at the girl, whimpering before her with tears falling from the corner of her eyes.

He remembered how she hugged him when he sliced that apple for her to ask about the attack and because he thought she was suspicious and smelt different. He couldn’t help but ruffle his hair in frustration.

He said he wouldn’t let anything like what happened today happen again because he meant that she would always be under surveillance, something he should’ve done earlier, too.

He wasn’t caring about her or something. Why would he care for a healer, let alone a girl, when he knew all women were like that, full of deceit and betrayal, just like how mother?

"Please, don’t do it," Amelia’s whimper, full of pain and regret, made Cyrus look at her again.

He saw her moving her hand, almost as if trying to shield herself from something.

Her wounds reopened and started bleeding again, staining his expensive sofa.

A disgruntled grumble left his mouth, and he stood from the bed, placing the wine glass aside.

He was about to ask Miss Quinn to come and attend to her when he saw her moving, and she was about to fall on the ground.

His instincts kicked in, and he used his werewolf speed, stopping her right before she could fall and breathing in relief.

The disgusting smell of blood wafted through his nostrils, and he glared at the girl who was making him uncomfortable.

He picked her up before walking around and placing her on the bed so her hand dangled from the edge.

As if she found some kind of peace, she stopped struggling, and the man’s glare intensified.

Was all that drama so that she could get on the bed?

What a cunning woman!! He stared at the dripping blood from her hand before he clenched his jaws.

"You are such a hateful creature. The only reason I am doing it is because I hate the smell of blood and don’t want you to disturb my sleep," Cyrus said to Amelia, who whimpered.

Without thinking twice, Cyrus pulled out the dagger from his pocket and sliced his hand.

He placed his hand on Amelia’s mouth, forcing her to open her mouth as he forced his blood down her system.

Amelia gulped, taking his blood like she was drinking some elixir, and the man scoffed inwardly.

"Always hungry for some powerful blood, aren’t you?" Cyrus said.

Once he thought it was more than enough, Cyrus quickly removed his hand and licked his wound to heal the cut on his hand.

He looked at the girl on the bed whose wound healed immediately and sighed.

He did it only because he hated the smell of blood and the messy environment. He told himself before walking to the other side of the bed and lying down to sleep.

Cyrus closed his eyes, his thoughts suddenly drifting to what Amelia had said earlier.

When he asked who saved her, she said something about a man with a scythe.

So far, his men haven’t been able to find anything relatable. Who was the man who came out of nowhere to help Amelia, and why?

And that lingering smell on her? What kind of smell was that? Why did his wolf react to that smell so strongly, making his presence known?

Heck, it wasn’t even the smell. It was the presence. His wolf could feel that powerful presence that touched Amelia, which was strange because something like this had never happened before.

It looks like he will have to arrange for a spy to monitor Amelia’s whereabouts and find out if this man arrives again, Cyrus thought before taking a deep breath, grumbling inwardly when he felt something heavy on his stomach.

He didn’t need to be told what it was, and just like that, another torturous night began for him.