Chains to Crowns
Chapter 11

She woke up, feeling sick as she watched him pull on his jeans.

“Derrek?” she whimpered

Her mouth dry, a pain throbbing below the bloody sheets.

“Hey sweetie, same again next week?” A sickly sweet smile on his lips before leaving.

Klara stretched cocooned in the scent of freshly cut grass and honey; Marc’s smell. She opened her eyes, a frown finding her face as she looked around, but Marc wasn’t there. Her fingers were gripped onto something, she looked to see a shirt. She smelt it, that was where his scent was coming from. She sighed, she felt so relaxed and well rested. She cuddled Marc’s shirt closer to her, breathing in the delicious smell. Her wolf purring in contentment. She felt so much better.

She looked around, stretching again under the sheets, her stomach rumbled hungrily. She had no idea what time it was, the last thing she remembered was hugging Marc. If it wasn’t for her stomach she’d have happily laid there a few more hours hugging into the sweet smelling fabric.

After showering and sorting herself out, she got dressed. She was getting better putting on the bra, it wasn’t as complicated as she first thought. She liked what the bra did to her petite breasts. Adelaide had told her they might grow as she gained weight, she wasn’t sure she wanted them to grow. Although Adelaide’s looked much nicer than hers in tops.

She looked at herself in the mirror, noticing her ribs were sticking out less and her skin colour looked healthier, there was a pink hue rather than pasty white. Her stomach let out another loud growl so she quickly put on a blue t-shirt.

She walked down the corridor hearing the TV, she looked into the green room that Marc referred to as the den. Marc instantly stood, “How are you feeling?”

“Better thank you… what time is it?

“A little after six, I was about to have dinner. Are you hungry?” As if her stomach was listening it let out a loud rumble, Marc chuckled, turning off the TV.

They sat down at the table, plates of chicken and vegetables in front of them. “How did you know the shirt would work?” she asked quietly, a blush creeping over he cheeks.

“Because I take a t-shirt of yours to put in my bed every morning,” he said matter of factly before taking a bite of chicken. She nodded, blushing harder, she hadn’t realised Marc did that… maybe her wolf wasn’t crazy. “You want to sleep in the same bed don’t you?” she muttered, not sure which answer she wanted. Marc’s gold eyes looked to her, “Only when you’re ready and want to,” he said carefully. Klara nodded as she ate. She liked that answer, it made her feel secure. It made her feel in control for the first time in her life… which was also a little scary.

Klara cuddled into Marc’s side as they watched through trailers before their film. “Hold on, I fancy a drink.” He shifted her slightly and stood. She frowned as he didn’t go towards the door but to the bottles lined up on the wall. Klara’s eyes went wide before scuttling to the other end of the sofa, Marc turned, a glass and bottle in his hand. “Do you want…” he faded off seeing her fearful expression. “What’s the matter?” His eyebrows met. Her eyes were flicking from the bottle he had in his hand to the glass. He took a step towards her and she whimpered.

Her face crumpled suddenly as salty tears streaked down her face. She looked around wildly in panic, seeing the open door she leapt from the sofa and flew out of the room. She blindly looked up and down the corridor, her breathing hitching, while little panicked breaths caught in her throat. She vaguely saw the edge of the mahogany banister so her feet pounded the wooden floor until she stumbled down the steps, having to catch herself on the banister to not fall.

She burst through the double doors gilded in gold, her bare feet slapped on stone flooring as it changed from the wood of the King’s Wing. She was so worked up she didn’t hear Marc jogging after her, she blindly ran, going past doors she’d never passed before. So many hidden rooms and things she could explore… if she wasn’t in a state of sheer hysterical panic.

She reached a crossroads of corridors, she went left, having no idea where she was going. Tears still falling and blurring her vision. She ran until she crashed head long into a big figure who grabbed her by her arms to stop her falling backwards. “Woah there sweetie, where are you going in such a hurry?”

She screamed and tried to tug herself free.

“Let her go,” Marc spoke calmly, the guard quickly released her, making her stumble backwards and fall to the stone floor. “Sorry, my King,” the guard muttered, concerned he had offended.

“At ease.” Marc nodded to him.

Klara was scrambling to her feet, but she tripped. She pointed to the spot the guard had previously been although now he was further down the corridor. “Derrek’s going to make me drink it!” she squeaked through her sobs.

“Little one…” Marc crouched in front of her. “His name was Sam, he’s not going to make you drink anything,” he said gently, a confused frown on his face.

“He always does!” she squeaked.

“He’s gone, rub your eyes and look,” he commanded gently. She did as she was told, and saw the corridor was deserted apart from her and Marc.

She threw her arms around his waist, crying into his white t-shirt. “All right, shh, it’s all right,” he muttered as he rubbed her back. He held her until her sobs quietened, muttering soothing words.

“I’m going to stand up,” he whispered when she was quiet. She gave a little hiccup as he stood with her in his arms, she didn’t let go of his waist. He stood in the middle of the corridor, arms wrapped securely around her small figure as her breathing gradually evened again.

“Put your arms around my neck, I’ll take you home.” She let go of him and backed away, her eyes going back to fearful. “Don’tsendmebackthere” she rushed out, quivers racking her body.

“No, no, no. Our home, the wing,” he explained quickly.

Her face relaxed, “Oh,” she breathed. He gently gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, keeping her eyes on his. “You’re never going back there… ever,” he said firmly, she blinked.

“Come on,” he encouraged gently. “Put your arms around my neck,” he said as he bent down a little. She chewed on the inside of her cheeks before loosely wrapping her arms around his neck, he snaked his arm under her knees, easily lifting her from the ground. His arm under her back to support her, while she leant her head against his chest.

She hadn’t realised how far she had run, but it took over half an hour before they went through the double doors for the King’s Wing.

Marc sat on the sofa, going to place Klara next to him but she refused to release her hold around his neck, so he kept her held to his chest. “Little one, what did Derrek do?” he asked gently. She relaxed her hold until she was sat on his lap, her head bent in shame. He softly rubbed up and down her back. “I’ll understand if you tell me,” he encouraged.

“He pretended to be nice…” she started, talking to her thighs. “He’d come in the day after dad beat me, be nice to me… then after a bad whipping…” She bit her lip, chewing nervously. “He came in with a bottle… said it would take the pain away. It made me feel funny, I didn’t like it but he made me drink. Then I don’t remember.” Marc closed his eyes, his wolf surfacing, furious.

“What…” He took a deep breath to control his voice. “What happened when you woke up?” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I felt tired, my body felt… weird. And he was getting out of the bed.”

“Were you dressed?” Marc’s chest was hurting but this was the first time she’d told him anything that had happened. She shook her head. “He wasn’t either… like the first male.”

“Did anywhere hurt?”

She nodded, “It was different,” she mumbled.

“From the first male?” his teeth had gritted involuntarily, he had to ask the questions. She nodded, sniffing as tears began to spill. “That’s why I was whipped… I didn’t understand though, dad said he was angry I’m a whore… but he was in the room… he saw it.” Marc was struggling to keep his anger down, his wolf was more furious than him, what kind of father did that?

Marc managed to calm himself a little and gently guided her chin to look at him. “Where did it hurt after D-Derrek, little one?” She shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him. “Can you tell me?” She shook her head again, more fear flashing in her eyes. “OK, you’ve done really well telling me.” He gently wrapped his arms around her, “You know I said mates do things for each other?” Marc asked carefully, she nodded, looking at him out of the corner of her eye suspiciously. “I need one of your hugs.” She turned to look at him and her lips twitched into a small smile. She wrapped her arms around his back, her head on his shoulder.

Marc snaked his arms tighter around her, burying his face in her neck, he allowed his wolf to sniff, taking in her calming scent. His wolf wanted to protect her, he didn’t even care about the mating process, he felt his wolf coming further to the surface. He wanted to be the one to protect her in fur form. ’No,’ he growled to his wolf, battling him back a little. ‘She hasn’t seen you yet, you’ll terrify her,’ he reasoned which made his wolf stop fighting, and just allowed his skin side to enjoy her embrace.

Marc accidentally fell asleep, he didn’t mean to, but having her body against his lulled him into the most relaxed he’d ever felt. Klara looked around, his arms were still tight around her, but she didn’t mind. His head was still in the crook of her neck, although it had got heavier against her shoulder, his breathing deep in sleep. The film was waiting to be played, so stretching over she managed to reach the remote and pressed play; she wasn’t tired. The blare of the TV made her jump and she fumbled to turn it down. Marc stirred a little but was still asleep.

Klara woke up, stretching her legs, she realised she was lying on the sofa; well Marc was lying on the leather, she was basically on top of him. She didn’t remember falling asleep, and she definitely didn’t remember them lying down. Marc stirred under her and she was quick to try and move from him, embarrassed at the position she was in.

She tried to crawl but she would just be crawling on Marc, so she settled on rolling, landing on the floor with a slightly painful thump. She groaned sitting up, Marc was now stretching, his arms above his head. She quickly went from the room, if he knew she’d slept with him he’d want to sleep in the bed; she wasn’t ready for that. She sped to the bedroom.

Marc chuckled to himself seeing her disappear through the door. He dropped his legs from the sofa, waking up to her small body on his had put a smile on his face he didn’t think could ever be wiped. Although it needed to be… what she’d disclosed the night before had to be dealt with.

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