The Alpha King's Lost Mate

Ch. 3

Seven

I softly parted my lips to tell King Ambrose what happened with Gamma Thomas, but I couldn't find the right words.

What would he think of me when I told him? All I wanted was for him not to kill me, but if I told him my mistake, he surely would. Fresh tears started to stream down my face.

All I seemed to be able to do was cry today. I was so beyond weak.

King Ambrose moved closer to me, holding onto my jaw, his fingers leaving warm sparks as they trailed across my skin.

"Words, Little One. Use your words, please," King Ambrose instructed.

I still couldn't believe he wanted me to speak to him. Madam Olympia had taught me that I needed to ask permission to speak before ever doing so.

But if the king was telling me to speak, I had to obey. "O-Ok."

A small smile stretched across his lips when I spoke. At least I had done one thing right around King Ambrose.

His smile didn't last long before he lifted his nose and smelled the blood again. His eyes darkened.

"I'm so sorry. I made such a dumb, stupid mistake," I said through sniffles. "G-Gamma Thomas gave me very strict instructions to bring him lunch in his office at noon sharp, a-and"—I tripped over my words, crying— "I was so busy scrubbing the floor that I-I was late. Gamma Thomas had to show me what happens w-when I misbehave."

I harshly wiped my tears away. I couldn't bring myself to stop crying. I'm sure King Ambrose was about to lecture me about my awful mistakes. I knew that I messed up. I was so embarrassed.

I was an awful servant. My pack gave me a roof over my head, a cot to sleep on, and food to eat, only asking that I follow the rules, and I couldn't even do that. I was a disgrace to all the pack servants.

"Bad Omega," I scolded myself, repeating the exact words that Gamma Thomas had said earlier. "Useless, awful, no good omega servant."

I heard those words so much that they were always at the front of my mind. Gamma Thomas liked for us omegas to repeat his words whenever we messed up. He wanted us to always understand our rank and punishment.

"What are you doing?" King Ambrose looked at me. "Stop! Stop saying those words!"

He quickly grabbed hold of both my wrists, pulling them against his chest and wrapping his hands around them, stealing the breath out of my lungs and the words from my mouth. "Stop saying that."

I continued crying, my breaths getting shorter and shorter until I was hyperventilating.

"Oh, Little One," King Ambrose whispered. He pulled me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me until I was fully cocooned in his embrace.

"Please, please don't ever do that again, okay? I absolutely hate hearing you say those words about yourself." He held onto me tighter. "Please promise me that you won't ever say that about yourself under any circumstance, okay, Little One? I just– you can't," his voice cracked. "Please don't ever do that again. please."

Seeing King Ambrose so sad made me feel awful. A sudden wave of sorrow flooded through me. All I wanted was to make him feel better.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I won't do it again. I'm sorry."

King Ambrose buried his face into my neck and inhaled deeply.

"I never want you to hurt yourself again, okay little one?" His breath tickled against the side of my neck as he spoke. "Not with your words, not with anything."