The Alpha King's Lost Mate

Ch. 4

Seven

"I didn't mean to offend you, truly," I said, bowing my head. "I had assumed that was why I was here. I now see the error in my ways."

I could feel the anger rolling off King Ambrose. He must have been completely disgusted at the mere thought of being intimate with me. I was nowhere near worthy enough for him.

"How many other men have brought you to their beds before, Little One?" he growled. "Tell me now before my wolf comes out and takes control."

"No one!" I gasped. "I have kept myself pure and untouched, just as Madam Olympia has told all of us servants to do. I promise you."

King Ambrose's eyes lightened only momentarily as he looked down at me.

"And why exactly were you told to keep yourself pure?" He spit the words out like they were acid on his tongue.

"So that when I turn twenty-one, I can be given to one of the unmated warriors in the pack."

Was it different in The Royal Pack? Were the servants there not kept pure to be given away? Maybe all of them had found their mates right away.

I was suddenly pushed off King Ambrose's lap as he jumped from the bed and stormed across the room, ripping open the door to the bathroom and slamming it shut behind him. Barely a second later, the sound of things breaking and loud growling echoed through the room as he tore things apart.

I wrapped my arms around my legs. I couldn't do anything but make him angry.

Maybe he was upset that I hadn't been given away to another wolf already. Maybe he wished that I was better experienced and could please him?

A few minutes later, the bathroom door swung open, giving me a glimpse of the absolute mess he had made in there. Ambrose was back in front of me in a flash, picking me up and placing me onto his lap. He held my jaw in place.

"We will not, absolutely not, be sleeping together in that way tonight, ok? We will only sleep. Understood, Little One?" King Ambrose ground his teeth as he spoke, each word punctuated and dripping in authority.

"Yes, of course, Your Highness," I squeaked out. "I understand. I am so sorry for upsetting you."

"Don't call me that," he grunted out. "Call me Ambrose."

"I'm sorry, Ambrose," I corrected. "My apologies, Ambrose."

I secretly loved the way that his name sounded on my tongue. It was such a strong, beautiful name.

Madam Olympia would have no doubt punished me until I was black and blue if she heard me calling Ambrose by his first name. But she was not here right now, and Ambrose had specifically told me to call him that.

I'd do anything to keep him happy.

A smile spread across Ambrose's face. "Say it again," he demanded. "Say my name again, Little One."

"A-Ambrose," I stuttered.

He sighed. "Your voice is like heaven. So wonderful and sweet."

None of what Ambrose was saying made any sense. He liked the sound of my voice? This had to be part of his slow torture.

Ambrose lifted me back up into his arms. He stepped around all the broken gold picture frames scattered across the floor and gently set me down on the edge of the giant, red bed.

He took a step back and started to unbutton the black long-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

Oh, Goddess. Was he about to take my virginity before he killed me?