The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl-Chapter 159: Extra - s (Valka & Lucien) X

Valka.

Present. (Before the war)

I bump my knee up and down, gripping either sides of Tristan’s torso as he coos happily, gnawing off the head of a toy with his tiny fangs.

Evadne holds Drustan, who keeps reaching for her breasts, slapping at them excitedly, having recognized something that looks like his feeding jar. Jessa’s somewhere, probably attached to Lucien’s back, and Asterin is seated on the floor at the centre of the the chamber, poring over a chess-game set.

He’s been staring at it all afternoon. He seems particularly obsessed with the figurine of the Pawn. He’s only three, but he’s found all the different, interesting ways that a pawn might be sacrificed or promoted, only to be sacrificed again.

All these he learned by watching Lucien play once. And now, even Lucien cannot outsmart him. Everyone calls him a prodigee at his young age. They say he’ll go on to do great things. But that has never been in question or ’the question’.

What bothers me is how quickly he conquers things and thrashes them the minute they sate his curiosity. And how, of all four of my children, he is Margot’s favourite.

Eva laughs, drawing my attention back to her blue eyes twinkling. "I’ve been thinking." She shoots a look over at the door. Sebastian never strays too far. Wherever Eva goes, he goes.

When they both initially arrived back at the castle, she complained every second about how he just wouldn’t leave. She kept trying to kill him off. And when that didn’t work, she began giving him the most arduous, aggravating and disgusting tasks to accomplish, since he had sworn himself into service of her to escape being killed by Lucien.

On some days, he washes her underthings. Other days, he cleans horseshit off her shoes. Of course, he had no idea she kept walking into horseshit on purpose, just so he had to do it every single morning. That’s what the servants were for, but Evadne refused to let anyone else touch her things except him.

He thought, for some reason, that it made him special. I simply thought he was a fool.

"I didn’t realize I would love children so much," she continues. "I’m thinking of having mine."

I stare at her blankly. "You’re joking." But her grin only spreads. "I know you think their poo smells like warm milk, but I assure you it gets worse after the first seven months. I thought I was going mad the first year--no. I am certain I went mad. The only reason I’m still sane is because Luke is unbelievably good with them." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Evadne tosses me a sharp look. "That’s because there are four of them. I just want one. A little best friend for Jessa, with big brothers to take care of my little bun, don’t you think?"

"Your perky little breasts will swell and sag."

She looks at my chest. "Yours seem fine, even after being sucked by five people."

I close Tristans’s ears, unable to help the laugh that stutters out of me. "Are you insane?"

She shrugs, her fresh curls brushing over her creamy shoulder. "Just stating the obvious. If you keep using yourself as the example, half the women here will be trying for a baby by autumn. You look incredible."

I’ve heard that many times. I didn’t think so when it took months to beat my body back into shape. And to be honest, it hasn’t really snapped back. I still have a little pouch that won’t leave.

Lucien reassured me that I was gorgeous. That I didn’t have to change a single thing about myself for him to want me. He said it was something he was beyond grateful and honoured for every damned day. But I didn’t listen.

I was scared he was, one day, going to look out there and see prettier, taller, leaner women with bodies sculpted to perfection. I was scared that he would feel disgust one day and grow weary of me.

It’s a constant insecurity that comes with being with a gorgeous man, if I’m being honest. Even with so much self-confidence, there are little moments you wonder why they picked you, why they’re so in love with you. And you want to stay perfect for them, look perfect, be perfect.

I began skipping meals. And maybe I lied a couple of times because I didn’t want him to worry. His reassuring was never enough. His words never made a dent in that deep well of fear that kept growing. I pretended I was fine when in truth, I was losing my mind. Couldn’t recognize myself.

My breasts lifted from the slight sag, but it never returned to what it used to be. Even after losing a shit ton of weight, my body didn’t lose the stretch marks. Margot thought I was overreacting, and it would be fine in the next couple of years, but I just wasn’t fine.

Later, in the years that progressed, along with human medicine, I’d come to learn there were things called postpartum depression. Back then, I just couldn’t tell what was wrong. And everything felt wrong.

Until one day, I nearly killed myself trying to beat the ’inpurities’ out of my body.

It’s a story for a different time, but Lucien fucked the depression out of me. He was cruel. First, he had more mirrors placed in our bedroom so I could never outrun my reflection. And when I did try to, he made it wholly clear that he wasn’t beyond chaining me to the bedpost--classic Lucien. Next, he made a schedule, a regimen, a discipline, a whole ritual out of fucking me. Six times a day--don’t ask me how we managed it, we just did--four out of which he did everything but penetrate me.

He made love to my stomach. It sounds strange, but I must be a bit of a freak myself, seeing as I... Well. I’m not sharing. Let’s just leave that particular detail that way.

To the marks I hated, he made a depraved habit out of leaving hickeys and cum all over them. He would only ever reward me with a release after I’d recited affirmations he’d written himself, and sounded remotely like I meant them. And if I didn’t, he’d just start all over again. On most days, he’d leave me strapped that way to attend his Council meetings or take care of the children because I clearly wasn’t in the best frame of mind.

And he wouldn’t return for a very long time, leaving me to stare at my spread pussy, my bared breasts, my stomach, the marks in the mirror.