I try to breathe normally as I keep my back to him. He feels different. Heavier, to be exact. His presence feels heavier as if his aura has gotten fifty shades darker. Not just that, there's something else lacing his musk scent. Like a tinge of metallic scent.

Lyall takes steps to the bed. He picks up Ed's chest and puts it on the dining table. Then he looks at the dirty plates and cutlery on the table. The maids couldn't come to collect them because the room was locked.

"Was the food good?" He asks.

Instead of answering, I ask him back, "Didn't you say I'm not your prisoner?"

"You're not."

"Liar," I spit the words as I stand to face him.

Here I am trying to be angry at a lycan king for locking me up. Also, knowing that he has not been giving the boy love irritates me, despite knowing it's not Lyall's fault to be cursed. I just want to be angry at him.

But when he looks at me from head to toe and gulps, his eyes change into the ones I have been seeing all this time. His cheeks and ears blush, so he covers half of his face with his hand. And seeing him blushing makes me forget about my anger.

"Why aren't you using the boxer?" he says.

I have changed from the white bathrobe into the clothes he folded on the bed. A regular shirt and his boxer. Both are too big for me and since the shirt covers my thighs, I didn't care to wear the boxer.

"You've seen me naked. Why are you blushing now?" I am genuinely curious.

He clears his throat. "Seeing you in my clothes trigger... something. I forgot you can make me feel things."

"Isn't that the only purpose you're keeping me in your kingdom?" I ask, "To stir your emotion?"

"That's what I want to talk about with you." He clears his throat again as he pulls out a folded paper and hands it to me. "Let's make a deal."

I take the paper slowly. "Another deal?"

"More like ground rules for our arrangement."

It's a two-piece of paper. When I open the folding, the title reads, 'Rules for Werewolf Girl.' Seriously? Does he think a werewolf is a pet he can put a leash on with these rules?

I read the rules he has handwritten on the paper out loud. "One, always be honest. Two, take care of yourself every day; eat plenty, shower regularly, and smile all the time. Three, anytime I say 'stop,' Werewolf Girl should stop pulling my emotion. Four, werewolf girl should call me 'Master.' Five, werewolf girl always has to be ready with–"

I can't read aloud the rest of the words. It involves panties and blindfolds.

My eyes are wide when I catch his eyes again. "Are you kidding me? This sounds like a set of rules for BDSM play!"

He blinks at my question. Then he replies, "You've done BDSM, before?"

"N–no..." Damn it! I can't stop my cheeks from going red, so I avoid his eyes. I mean, it's not wrong for Ed and me to... spice things up a little, right? We have never done anything extreme... just some ropes and cuffs. But it doesn't mean I should tell this lycan king.

Then again, the thought of doing it with Lyall...

I slap myself mentally. 'Stop putting pictures in my mind!' I scold my wolf.

"Ha!" Lyall has assumed a very relaxed position. He leans to the table and points at me. His grin blossomed, immediately brushing off all the heavy presence surrounding him earlier. He is back to the Lyall that I usually see. "And you said I am the liar."

"Admit it," he continues, "You've done it before!"

I click my tongue. "So what if I have? That doesn't concern you."

"Humor me, are you the dom or the sub?"

My eyes blink several times. I can't believe Lyall's wide grin right now. Just moments ago, he was acting cold and distant with me. And now, he is teasing me for having done kinky stuff?

"You must have done it too!" I point at him. "By the way, you wrote these ridiculous rules!"

"I have."

I blink at his quick and leisurely response. "Which is why this is such a good coincidence, right?" he continues, "Three hundred and sixty-five days is a long time. Perhaps we can make another arrangement."

Again, I blink. Another arrangement? The sound of it makes my cheeks blush even more.

"It's been quite some time since I can sleep with a girl, anyway," he says, "It's something to do with emotion, right? I've never found any girl to be attractive other than you since the curse. So, what do you say?"

Wait a minute...

The boy who visited me looks like he is twelve... and Lyall said he is around my age, so that would mean he was married when he was around thirteen? Isn't that too early for a man to be able to impregnate a woman? How much older was his wife?

And also, Lyall said he has done BDSM... Oh, my Goddess! This lycan king has been kinky since a young age! Now I wonder if the curse was actually meant for him to stop screwing with girls...

Still, things seem wrong. The equation seems off. "It doesn't add up...," I mutter.

"What doesn't add up?"

"What is your actual age, Lyall?" I ask.

"Thirty-two."

I gasp in shock. He is actually older than he told me. So, since he was twenty years old... he was already doing BDSM and now he has a son that he neglects? Oh, the last part is definitely taking a lot of points from Lyall. Even my wolf is covering her eyes with her paws, embarrassed by the things we have found.

Still... things seem weird. Somehow they still don't make sense... And I trust my gut. Women's intuition is 99,9999% always right. So, who is lying here, the boy or the king?

It's not like I can ask him about the boy. I don't want the boy to be in trouble since the boy said Lyall is capable of murdering the boy...

Lyall furrows his brows, "Did you not listen when I said you're the only girl I have found attractive since the curse?"

I shrug. "Thanks?" Deep down, I have butterflies exploding in my stomach. My wolf, especially, is rolling with happiness that our mate finds us attractive. But I keep my face cool. This lycan king thinks he can control me by locking me in his room and giving me these absurd rules.

But just watch. He doesn't know that the more I can influence his emotion, the more I have control over him.

"You should feel grateful, ecstatic even, that–"

"That the Lycan King considers me pretty?" I scoff hard. "I am not that shallow that I will blush for every compliment, Your Majesty. Just because you are a king doesn't mean everyone should treat you special, right?"

This time, he is the one blinking. "You're right," he unexpectedly says, "Keep treating me like you would treat any other, werewolf girl." His voice is gentle. It sounds like a weak plea. And it sounds really lonely, too. I wonder if people have started to treat him differently because of his title, and then even more different when they find out about the curse.

"So, how about it?" he asks again, "The sleeping arrange–"

I pretend to see the darkening sky from the window and cut him off, "Look, it's getting so late now. Can I just go to my–I mean, a guest room, or whatever room you must have prepared for me? We can talk more about the rules tomorrow."

It has been a long day for me. With Lyall's unpredictable behavior, meeting the boy, my pregnancy, and I am still recovering after two days of running in the woods.

He looks at me straight in the eye. "This is the room prepared for you."

I don't blink. However, I stare at him with a blank face. Then I scoff into a burst of awkward laughter. "Don't jest, Lyall."

"You think I would let you sleep in another room?" he asks. His smile has a hint of amusement. "Have you forgotten that you're my personal muse? You're supposed to make me feel every day. So, it is more convenient that we stay in the same room, right?"

My jaw has dropped to the floor. Figuratively.

This is bad. Totally, utterly, bad! Sleeping in the same room as this... this... lycan king? And if that is not bad enough, how am I supposed to hide my morning sickness?

Suddenly, I become too aware of the state of my body. I look down and his shirt that I have been wearing confidently as a dress looks so short in my eyes now. It only covers a third of my thighs.

And yes... no underwear... again.

My wolf is giving me raunchy pictures in my mind that I have to shake my head to brush off the visuals. At the same time, Lyall is taking off his shirt and pants, revealing only a pair of boxers, just like in the cave. He throws down his clothes to the basket in the bathroom, then walks toward me again.

I laugh awkwardly as I step backward quickly. My feet almost reach the door.

"You're not serious, are you?" I ask. I hug myself. "Stop taking advantage of me!"

Lyall widens his eyes at my accusation. But at the same time, his smile blooms. His eyes light up, seeing me so embarrassed. "Advantage?" He clicks his tongue. "Let me show you what taking advantage is really like."

In a blink of an eye, he disappears and appears right in front of me. I don't have time to respond as he hauls my body up to his shoulder. Then I feel a huge gust of wind then suddenly, we are on top of the bed.

Goddess, this man moves so fast!

I shriek as he drops me to the bed. Then I quickly cover my exposed legs because of the sudden drop. Just when I am about to jump out of bed again, Lyall grabs my waist and pulls me to him. My back is against his chest and he slips one leg between my thighs to make it harder for me to move.

Still, I try to fight his strength, anyway. But it is to no avail.

"You're cute when you're trying," he whispers to my exposed nape. His hot breath sends that familiar chill down my spine.

'I'm not sleeping with you!" I say between my gritted teeth.

"We're just sharing a bed, werewolf girl," he says while inhaling the scent of my hair, "Not sleeping sleeping together. Relax."

After a while, I give up. Heaving a heavy sigh, I stop struggling. Once I calm down, Goddess, the pillow and the bed are divine! They are so soft and fluffy and nice... Suddenly my eyes are becoming heavy.

It's honestly scary how quickly my body feels comfortable with Lyall. I can't even keep my alert up when he touches me.

"Why?" I finally ask. "Hours ago, you left me here cold. You looked like you did not want anything to do with me after our bath. And now you want to keep me close?"

He doesn't answer as fast as I hoped he would. But eventually, he says, "I like... No. I'm addicted to the emotion you can bring out of me." He tightens his embrace. His lips are touching my exposed nape, sending a fiery electric sensation on my skin. "But I forgot emotions can be overwhelming too. I needed to take a break from you. Hence why I created the rule that whenever I say 'stop,' you should cease whatever effect you're doing to me."

What emotion was too overwhelming for Lyall that he stormed out of the bath just like that? Was it something about his past? Some emotion that he thought he had gotten over with but turns out to linger until I brought it up?

"Why did you lock me up then?" My voice sounded like a sob. And only a few seconds later, I realize, I am really sobbing. "Why not just tell me that instead of leaving me in the dark to wonder things by myself?"

Lyall freezes when he notices I am crying. He turns my body slightly, but I have my palms covering my face. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks.

"You were an ass, you know!" I sob. The tears can no longer be kept at bay. There is this hurtful lump in my throat that I need to get out before it sinks me. "You were just like my father; locking me up out of the blue. I wondered for years why he would do that. He'd go days without coming home and I am locked in my own room with only so little to survive."

Lyall peels away my palm gently one by one, revealing my messy, crying face. "Stop," he whispers, "Stop crying. It's making me crazy."

Based on his rules, whenever he says 'stop,' I should stop whatever I am doing to him. But I don't stop. I keep pouring out the tears I thought I no longer have.

He doesn't ask me to stop anymore. Instead, he cradles me in his embrace, just like a child. I inhaled his musky scent, intertwined with a coffee scent. His skin feels hot, but it is a warmth I need at the moment.

I have never revealed that past of mine to anyone other than Ed. It's scaring me how fast I feel like opening up to this lycan king.

But... just like he couldn't control his emotions around me... I, too, seem to not be able to control the pull he has over me.

–to be continued–