Alpha's Cruel Addiction

"Welp, I'm out." Gerald was quick to leave, not wanting to witness the chaos that was going to happen. If one thing was for certain, it was that Killorn would never strike a woman—he knew better than to become like the late Alpha.

"I-I am s-sorry. I-I was just curious," Ophelia shakingly revealed to him whilst shakingly tried to back away, but then, her back hit the railing.

Killorn followed her every step of the way, his grip firm on her nape.

"I-I won't do it again," Ophelia told him. "I-I thought i-it'd be about your d-departure, so I j-just wanted to listen."

Killorn narrowed his eyes. "Did you hear everything?"

Ophelia's lips trembled. She hated how easy she cried, it only happened when her emotions were high. She was horrible with confrontations, no thanks to her childhood. She never intended to shed tears, but it always happened when she was extremely angry, scared, or hurt.

"Well?" Killorn pressed in a warning and tense tone.

Ophelia swallowed hard. Her husband was inhumanly handsome, but so stoic that her heart ached. He held her stare, seldom smiling, and she was instantly regretful, for he had rarely laughed around her.

"Ophelia."

An aloof expression adorned his face. Ophelia couldn't read what's on his mind, but it was always difficult to understand his thought process. She was momentarily starstruck by his black hair which was so dark, it was blue under the chandelier lights. His eye color sparked gold with flecks of hazel. He possessed a strong angular jaw, and ever so slightly, his Adam apples moved.

"U-uhm…" Ophelia tried to not be distracted by his handsome appearance, but it was impossible. His clothes hugged his body perfectly, his muscles bulging from manual labor of exercising—something uncommon for many lords of his prestige and rank, especially amongst vampires.

"I'm s-sorry…" Ophelia choked out again, her voice tense and weak as a wobbling tree branch.

"Stop apologizing and just answer my question," Killorn demanded, leaving no room for an argument.

Ophelia was frightened by his stormy glare. She tried to create more distance between them, only to realize she pinned against the stair railings.

"Careful," Killorm murmured. He glanced behind her and saw that they were hovering near the stair balcony. He cornered her against the staircase railing. She whimpered, attempting to create distance between them, but it was impossible. She felt her braid dangle in the air.

"I mean it, Ophelia," Killorn's voice suddenly became gentle as a care on naked skin. Her heart fluttered. He slid his palm across her upperback and brought her closer to him, until she could feel and hear his warm exhales.

"Alright?" Killorn insisted, his palm flat on her body.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Ophelia's heart was skipping faster than rocks skidding across a pond. He was so close, that she could practically taste him. He shifted his body, pressing his tightly on hers, until she could feel every inch of his tight abdomen.

"T-thank you, m-my lord."

Killorn sharply exhaled. "You do not have to thank me over something so trivial as keeping you safe.."

Ophelia quickly nodded. "O-okay…"

Ophelia was dizzy from his affection and could barely speak properly. Well, she already couldn't, but he was doing wild things to her rationality. He simply quirked a prominent brow and bent his head. She held her breath, her mind going black. He smelled of the winter forest and sunlight, a refreshing scent that she didn't even think was possible.

"I'm guessing you heard everything?" he whispered, his lips brushing upon her ears. She shivered in delight, feeling tickled and teased by their intimate position.

Ophelia glanced at her feet. She nervously swallowed. His boots were large and thick, making him appear like a giant beside her. Suddenly, he slid his hand down her spine. His caresses were warm, but she shivered at the delightful sensation.

"Y-yes, my lord…" Ophelia shamefully admitted, using the proper address, for she was riddled with guilt over eavesdropping.

"And what did I say about addressing me by name?"

"U-uhm… i-it's hard, m-my lord—"

"Would you like to be fucked over the railing?"

Ophelia's head snapped up. She thought he was joking, but his expression was serious. Her cheeks grew red and she glanced down.

"T-they'll hear."

"Then call me Killorn and I'll do it somewhere private," Killorn deadpanned.

"B-but—"

"Killorn," he instructed in an irritated tone.

Ophelia was mesmerized by his blazing eyes. Whenever he was irritated, the gray would burn like silver flames. She timidly bit her bottom lips. His attention darted to the tiny action. His gaze darkened and he pressed himself even closer.

Ophelia held a breath. His body was hard and muscular against her soft ones. She could feel the ridges of his strength—that was how proximate they were.

"Don't bite my property." Killorn brushed his thumb upon her bottom lips.

Ophelia trembled at the unexpected action. "Y-you don't even k-kiss me."

The atmosphere thickened. He narrowed his eyes at her words. Suddenly, he bent his head, until they were a breath apart. Her heart skipped. She felt a strange ache in her stomach.

"Would you like a kiss, Ophelia?" Killorn asked, his voice velvety and warm. He stroked his knuckles down the arch of her spine. Her lashes fluttered.

Ophelia could barely focus on anything, but his minty breath. His lips were so close, she nearly tasted it.

"N-no…"

Killorn slid his hand upon her cheek. She gulped, her lashes fluttering. His touch was so tender, his fingers warm on her skin.

"O-oh, m-maybe…"

Killorn's lips curled.

Ophelia couldn't help herself. He smelled divine, like a man who had taken a shower under the heated sunlight. She stood on her tippy-toes, eager for a kiss from her husband.

Only when Ophelia remembered who he was, did she freeze. He was her husband. And, she once stood on an auction stage. She was undeserving of his attention. Not after all that she had done to him, not after the auction house, her questionable status, and all of the problems she seemed to be causing him.

Just as Killorn bent his head, Ophelia turned her cheeks. Killorn's kiss landed right at the corner of her mouth. And he was far from pleased.

"Was it not my wife who requested a kiss?" Killorn demanded. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. His chest stirred at the amethyst that greeted him. She was alluring with her soft lips and gentle gaze. There was not a moment he didn't wish to touch her.

"I-I have something to c-confess," Ophelia suddenly said in a tiny voice, attempting to change the subject.

"Unless it's your undying love for me and my mouth, then stay still," Killorn grumbled, bending his forehead and resting it upon hers. He even gave a small nudge, just to show she was being silly.

"I-I'm dirty," Ophelia whispered.

"Where?" Killorn glanced at her from head to toe. She shined with the etherealness of a goddess. He was befuddled, his brows coming together.

"You are perfect as usual," Killorn stated in a rough voice. "What is the problem?"

Killorn couldn't imagine a spot on her body that could be tainted. It should be the other way around. He took a noble lady and forced her to live in a depressing castle that might as well have been a morgue. He frowned deeply.

"A-are you s-sure you're not -disgusted by me?" Ophelia asked, for she realized only with his constant reassurance would her heart calm down.

"I never will be, Ophelia, no matter what," Killorn affirmed. "I already told you, my sweet. Nothing that they did to you will ever change how I view you."

"I-I just feel l-like—"

"Ophelia, breathe."

Ophelia didn't even realize she was trembling with anxiety until he worriedly cupped her neck. She gasped in the air, but he shook his head.

"No, through your nose and out your mouth," Killorn patiently instructed. He knew things were wrong if it was almost every single word. He couldn't imagine just how nervous she was.

"Come now," Killorn insisted in a softening tone.

Ophelia obliged, feeling a sense of deja vu of their reunion. She breathed through her nose and closed her eyes, then released it through her breath.

"Again, my sweet."

Ophelia repeated the notion until she could no longer feel her tongue trembling. Then, she opened her eyes, nearly screaming, for his face was right in front of hers suddenly.

"What's my name?" Killorn suddenly asked her.

Ophelia shyly shook her head.

Killorn wryly stared at her. "It was worth a try."

Ophelia's face burned, realizing he was making a joke. She gripped his shirt, hoping he won't suddenly ambush her like that again.

"Back to our discussion then," Killorn agreed, his lips slightly curled. With his palm slightly flat on her spine, he used the other to cover the hand she used to cling onto his chest.

"What did you wish to say earlier?" Killorn asked.

"T-the auction house taught me u-upleasant things that couldn't-possibly m-make me a g-good w-wife…" Ophelia started off strong, but ended weak, for the more she thought about it, the more horrible her anxiety.

Killorn noticed the quick change as she taught about her experiences. He was livid by what could've happened to her. His expression was twisted into a glower. She saw a fire claw at his chest, licking at his resolution. His irritation stabbed her right in the chest.

"What did they do to you?" Killorn seethed, attempting to calm himself, but it was impossible.

Killorn grabbed her by the waist and yanked her closer. He was going to get answers out of her one way or the other. She was unable to look at him, her attention suddenly glued to his shoulders. That was fine. She needed time to think it through. He'll give it to her.

"T-they would p-punish the w-women with s-sticks down our t-throat, t-thick ones t-that'd feel like I was b-being choked to death," Ophelia stammered out, wishing to change the subject.

Ophelia thought she was ready to tell him the pain she suffered, but was only able to inform him that the incident happened. She wasn't ready to go into details.

"They what?" Killorn's voice was more peaceful than a morning walk.

Ophelia froze. No, he was supposed to be seething with anger. If a man like him was to remain calm then—her head snapped towards him. Ah, he had reached beyond the point of wrath. Now, he was calm and composed with murder on his mind.

Killorn clenched his jaw so tightly, a vein popped. His eyes were a vicious black. He resembled a predator ready to rip out the throats of those who stood in his way. He exhaled slowly, with sharp features that could cut through stone. The air around him was dangerous and dark.

"Then it is a good thing my men have captured them half burnt alive," Killorn growled.

Ophelia froze. She felt every cell in her body go stiff. With his thumb, he stroked her face. Her heart skipped at how calm he was about all of this. Death and torture didn't faze this man. He was good as a murderer.

"All the pain that they've inflicted upon you, I will return tenfold." Killorn bent and kissed her on the forehead.

Killorn felt her cringe under his touch, but he was eager for more of her. She resembled a bunny in his arms, squirming to be set free. He only wished to hug her tighter.

"I-I c-can't w-watch it, I…" Ophelia's voice died in her throat. I want them to suffer.

Her abrupt thought terrified her. She was worried about being like her grandmother. There was no greater psychopath in life than that woman.

"With time, you will learn to watch it." Killorn's decision was resolute. He never went back on his word. A man who did so had no honor.

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