THE TYRANT'S BABY

Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Mission Accomplished

Amaris shifted restlessly in the king's large bed, her mind tangled in the remnants of sleep. She was disoriented, feeling unusually warm and trapped beneath layers of clothing and blankets. "Ugh... it's hot, damn it... what's with these clothes...?" she mumbled, fumbling with the fabric of her dress, trying to pull it away from her body as if it were suffocating her.

Her movements stirred Alaric, who had unknowingly drifted off to sleep beside her. He was now half-awake, groggily processing her frustrated mumbling. His eyes barely opened, but as he felt her squirming beside him, a sense of possessiveness flickered in his sleepy mind. Without thinking, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Shh..." he hushed softly, his deep voice filled with a warmth and tenderness that he rarely showed. Still half-asleep, he instinctively leaned in, gently blowing a soft stream of air against the back of her neck, hoping to calm her down.

To his quiet delight, the tension in her body eased, and her restless movements subsided. Amaris stilled, the coolness of his breath sending a calming shiver down her spine. She unknowingly relaxed into his embrace, her breathing evening out once more.

Alaric smiled faintly while his eyes were still closed, feeling a strange sense of contentment wash over him.

But when Amaris finally realized what was happening, her eyes snapped open, and she froze in place, wide-eyed. The fog of sleep lifted abruptly as the weight of the situation dawned on her. Something strong and warm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her in place. Her heart raced as she slowly led her hand toward it, praying it wasn't what she thought it was.

When her fingers brushed against Alaric's firm arm, she flinched. A quiet curse escaped her lips as she mentally berated herself for ending up in such a compromising position. Carefully, she tried to pry his arm off her waist, moving as slowly as possible to avoid waking him up. But her efforts backfired. The moment she tugged at his arm, Alaric stirred fully awake, and instead of letting go, he pulled her closer.

With a sleepy, possessive motion, he brought her against his chest, and to her horror, his lips grazed the back of her neck. The unexpected touch sent an involuntary shiver down her spine, and she immediately stiffened.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Amaris demanded, her voice laced with irritation as she squirmed in an attempt to free herself from his grasp. But Alaric, still half-drowsy, tightened his hold, his larger frame overpowering her struggle with ease.

"Enjoying myself, if that is what you're asking about," he replied nonchalantly, his tone smooth, as if her protests were nothing more than idle background noise. His breath tickled her neck, and despite her annoyance, the intimate proximity sent her thoughts into disarray.

"Let go of me!" Amaris snapped, her cheeks burning with frustration and embarrassment, but Alaric merely chuckled softly, amused by her futile attempts to escape.

"You seem uncomfortable, slave," he teased, his voice warm and relaxed, a stark contrast to her frantic tone. "Yet here you are, still in my arms."

Amaris bit her lip, furious but helpless against his strength. "This isn't a game, Your Majesty!" she hissed, wriggling even harder, but to no avail. "You can't just—"

"I can," he cut her off, his voice firm yet playful. "Because you are mine, whether you like it or not."

The certainty in his voice made her stomach flip, and for a brief moment, she was at a loss for words.

As the memories flooded Amaris, she suddenly recalled the exact scene from the novel, the one playing out before her. Wait... I remember this happening. Her heart raced faster. But it wasn't supposed to be me... It was Rosalind. The realization hit her like a lightning bolt—something was very wrong.

Without thinking too much, she quickly turned to face Alaric, who had seemingly gone back to sleep, though he still held her close, conscious but quiet. "Alaric!" she whispered, her voice urgent, and for the very first time, she called him by his name.

At the sound of his name leaving her lips, Alaric's eyes fluttered open and a satisfied grin spread across his face. There was something pleasing, almost victorious, in his expression. "Yes?" he murmured, his voice echoing with contentment. "I am awake. Very awake." His grin broadened, clearly relishing the moment. But Amaris was too focused on her next question to notice his amusement.

"Are you not worried about Rosalind?" she asked, her tone pressing, wanting to confirm what she feared might be true.

At the mention of Rosalind, the warmth in Alaric's eyes instantly faded. His expression shifted, turning cold and indifferent, as if the name meant nothing to him. "Why would I worry about her? She is not my responsibility."

The simple, indifferent response sent a wave of shock and joy coursing through Amaris. He doesn't care about her. Alaric hadn't fallen for Rosalind. Her mission—her purpose for being stuck in this story—was a success!

She gasped, covering her mouth in disbelief and happiness, barely able to contain her excitement. Everything was working out the way it shouldn't, the way she wanted. The king didn't fall in love with Rosalind. She had managed to change the course of the story, and that meant... there was hope. 

Alaric, caught off guard by Amaris's sudden burst of happiness, raised an eyebrow, his confusion blending with amusement. "Why do you look like you've just won a battle?" he teased, his voice laced with curiosity, all while his hand remained firmly around her waist, holding her close.

Caught up in her joy, Amaris placed both hands on his cheeks, pressing them together in a playful gesture that made his lips purse in an exaggerated pout. The sight was so out of character for the usually imposing king that she couldn't help but giggle.

"Because you're not in love with her!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Alaric blinked in surprise, his face squished between her hands, completely thrown by her words. "Wh—what?" His speech came out muffled, his brows knitting together as he tried to process what she just said, though the way she beamed at him had his heart stirring in ways he couldn't quite explain.

Amaris let go of his face, still smiling, her eyes twinkling with relief. She didn't offer any further explanation, and Alaric, still confused, couldn't help but smile back, intrigued by her sudden shift in mood. For the first time in a long while, he felt... happy. Truly happy.