"Life is the art of drawing without an eraser."
Chapter 7
River's POV
A wave of spices, fresh meats, and exotic fruits filled my senses as I was carried into a majestic room that I could only imagine being the dining area.
It was beautiful. The floors a clean, white marble. The walls were covered in intricate designs that seemed to portray different dishes from around the world. A gigantic sparkling chandelier hung elegantly in the center of the room; placed right above a long wooden table that seemed to be able to house a whole army of knights.
"My mother designed the entire palace." Alastair's eyes softened.
"She must have been very talented," I said softly with a small smile.
"That she was." He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Perhaps reminiscing the past.
'Was'. He spoke of her as if she was no longer. Perhaps she was no longer among the living. I guess that was one thing we share in common.
I wonder how old he was when she passed...
"Your Majesty, is there something you need? Supper is not to be prepared until seven." A short, piggish-looking man asked.
He quite reminded me of my father, with his bear-belly and pig-like persona. Except instead of a five o'clock shadow this man had a thick, curled mustache.
"My love is hungry." Alastair stated, as if that answered all of Curly's questions.
Curly squinted as if that would solve whatever inner dilemma he was facing.
"Very well," he turned towards me, "and what would you like to eat?"
A growl rumbled from Alastair's throat, "You will address my mate as Your Majesty not you, as if he's on equal standing to you, mongrel."
Curly's eyes widened, "I-I apologize, Your Majesty, I h-had not realized he was your mate."
Was he implying that Alastair walking around with someone in his arms was a normal occurrence..?
I whimpered at the thought of another in his arms. Someone else had felt the warmth of his toned arms encased around them. Someone else had felt his soft lips on their skin. I felt as tears began to well in my eyes as vivid pictures of others before me plagued my mind.
"Love, what's the matter?"
No. No. No. No. Why? Why hadn't he waited? Why had he been with another? Had he not wanted me? Does he still not want me?
"Love, why are you crying?" I felt a soft warmth against my skin as he wiped at the wetness beneath my eyes.
Someone else had felt that soft warmth.
"Love-"
I pushed forward, forcing myself from his heat as I ran.
To where? I wasn't aware. All I knew is that I wanted to be far. Far from the one I loved more than the air I breathed.
Why? Why had he done it? How far had he gone with his...conquests?
Am I not-
A hard collision interrupted my thoughts. I felt a set of large hands landed on my shoulders to steady me from face planting into the floor.
"Whoa, careful there--," his hazel eyes widened as he soaked in my drenched face, "Hey, what happened cutie?" He said softly, his face looks just like--
YOU ARE READING
Cry Me a River |✔️
WerewolfSince River has been old enough to ask, his father has brain-washed into believing that he's unworthy of any sort of love. Especially from his long-awaited, fated mate. He has no future, just an awaited rejection and a continued life of abuse. All t...
