Where Flowers Don't Belong

Chapter 11-Too Gentle (Rewritten)

This chapter was rewritten Oct. 14, 2023! Be sure to read this updated version before continuing with other chapters. :)

----

I padded back to the slave's quarters after making breakfast for the pack, feeling exhausted beyond belief. I had other chores to do, but I convinced myself that they could wait fifteen minutes. My eyelids were drooping and my body felt as though it was filled with lead.

All I wanted to do was to sleep—if only for a little while.

Everything that Johnny said to me back in the kitchen kept running through my mind, repeating over and over again. I couldn't stop imagining him grabbing me in the middle of the night, tying me to his bed, and doing whatever he wanted with me. He would pass me around to his friends as I screamed and fought.

I would be completely and utterly helpless. He was so much bigger—stronger than I was. I would be too scared to speak, let alone fight.

Why was the idea of the king being the one to take my virginity so much less terrifying than if Johnny were the one to do it? I hadn't felt this nervous or sick last night when the king said he was bringing me to his bed. Don't get me wrong—I was still terrified beyond belief, but I somehow felt better about giving my virginity to the king. If I had to give it to someone, I would choose him.

The fear I was feeling was so much different than the fear I felt last night. I felt like I was going to puke, my entire body visibly shaking, my heart racing in my throat. I rounded each corner with hesitancy as if Johnny would be on the other side, ready to take me away.

When I finally made my way into the slaves' quarters, I was relieved to find it empty. Everyone else was off doing their chores—just like I should have been. I would get in such huge trouble if anybody knew that I was down here. But I wouldn't make it through the rest of the day if I didn't take at least five minutes to sit and process all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I was already on the verge of collapsing.

I found my usual spot on the floor and pressed my back into the corner, curling up into a tight ball. I didn't change clothes. My uniform was already covered in blood and dirt—past the point of saving. I would receive a beating for ruining it—but that was a worry for another time.

The concrete felt cool against my skin. I pressed my cheek closer to it. My chest was tight with the need to cry but I suppressed my tears.

I could be strong for another day. And then I would be strong again tomorrow.

Yeah, right.

You are weak.

Weak.

Weak.

Weak.

I was on the verge of sleep when a feral growl shook the packhouse and made my heart nearly leap from my chest.

"EVANGELINE!" a voice boomed.

I wasn't sure how, but I knew that the voice belonged to the king. The name, however, I didn't recognize.

I sprang into a sitting position and looked toward the door. The adrenaline that I thought I had run out of after the events of last night came slamming back into my body with incredible force. I was no longer tired but nervous about what had upset the king. Whoever this Evangeline was must have done something really bad. The king sounded livid.

Fast pounding of feet could be heard throughout the packhouse. The king was running. And it was clear he had shifted.

His wolf was on the loose.