Chains to Crowns
Chapter 6

“Was it worth this?”

“No,” she sobbed against the oak bedpost.

“Good, will I find another male in your bed?”

She whimpered as his boot smashed into her side.

Marc left his office, taking his stairs two at a time, he checked the private living area to not find Klara, he frowned as that’s where he would have expected her to end up after looking around. He strode back to his bedroom which showed Klara in exactly the same spot as he left her. He’d been gone well over an hour and it looked like she hadn’t moved a muscle.

Klara looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Marc made her lip go between her teeth. Chewing furiously, she knew what mates did and she didn’t want it. It hurt and made her feel dirty but she’d heard through the girl who used to bring her things sometimes that mates always did it on the first day. She gulped, she’d hope he would have been gone longer. “Do you want to look around?” Marc asked softly.

Klara blinked at him, “I suppose,” she muttered. He walked towards her which made her bring her legs closer to her chest, he smiled holding out his hand. She peered her blue eyes to him, looking at the hand that surprisingly looked harmless. She slowly reached her hand out when he gently grasped it, tingles flew up her arm which made her frown, it was still a strange feeling. Marc pulled her gently to her feet, keeping her hand clasped in his, he led her out of the bedroom.

“So those three doors are spare rooms.” Marc pointed to each white door in turn, “Here is the private living area.” He opened a door to a room with cream sofas, a mahogany four-seater dining table and a marble kitchen. Large french doors led to a balcony. Klara wanted to look at the balcony but Marc gently guided her to the door diagonally opposite across the corridor.

“This is my favourite room,” Marc opened a door to a dark green room. She stepped in slipping her hand out of Marc’s, eyes wide trying to take everything in. Klara felt over the soft looking green fuzz of the pool table, surprised that it wasn’t as soft as it looked. A dartboard hung to the side, she recognised a sound system but it wasn’t one she’d seen before.

Her eyes cast over the hundreds of books nestled within ebony coloured shelves. She hadn’t ever imagined that many books existed in the world, but here the books covered nearly an entire wall. At the Silversmith packhouse she remembered a bookshelf. There were no books at the Alpha house, even though she had always enjoyed reading as a child.

“You’re welcome to any of the books,” Marc said, noticing her interest. She wouldn’t even know where to start, she licked her lips but moved further down the shelf to the games, also on ebony shelves taking up a floor to ceiling section next to the books, she recognized a few again from their packhouse.

She avoided the wall of alcohol that was located at the far end of the room, the many coloured bottles lined up on spotlessly clean glass shelves. She hated the smell of alcohol, it brought back bad memories even seeing the bottles. So she passed the comfortable leather sofa which was opposite a large TV to get back to the door, where Marc was still standing. “What do you think?” Marc asked holding his hand out which she hesitantly took.

“It’s nice, my King,” she murmured quietly.

“It’s Marc, little one.”

“S-Sorry,” she stuttered. He leant down a little to look into her eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he put as much sincerity into his voice as he could. Klara dropped her head from his piercing gaze. “Everyone says that,” she whispered. Marc blinked at her response, he pulled her by the hand to one of the sofas, sitting down so she was taller than him. She gulped thinking he was about to pull her onto his lap but he didn’t.

“Klara,” he said her name slowly. “You’re safe here. I will never lay a hand on you and I will never do anything you don’t want.” He reached up slowly to stroke her cheek, “I promise,” he whispered. She searched his eyes, but saw no malice. She cocked her head a little trying to find his meanness. He kept eye contact with her deep blue eyes, feeling a pull towards her, a desire so strong he had to push his feet into the floor to stop himself. His wolf pouncing in his head trying to surface and mate her.

He closed his eyes purely to break the connection to calm himself. “What’s wrong?” the melody of her voice made him open them again. “Nothing, do you want to watch a film?”

“OK,” she said compliantly.

Marc stood, preventing her from sitting. “You don’t have to agree to anything I say. If you don’t want to do something, you say no. If you hate something, tell me. It won’t upset me, it won’t make me angry.”

“Are you… are you sure?” she stuttered.

“More than sure.”

She chewed her lip, “I-I don’t know if I like films… I saw a few as a child… but not all the way through, mum always said they weren’t for my eyes,” she said honestly, with a small amount of embarrassment.

“That’s OK, do you want to try one?” She sucked on her bottom lip thinking.

“A girl used to tell me about romantic films, she said they make her happy when it’s a happy ending.” He smiled showing his straight white teeth, his gold eyes flashing in happiness.

“I know the perfect one.” He moved from her going to a cabinet under the TV.

They sat on opposite ends of the sofa, watching the film. Klara was engrossed so didn’t see Marc stealing glances at her, he didn’t really care for this film but Adelaide had made him watch it so at least knew there was a happy ending. By the middle of the film she was curled up against the arm of the sofa, and he wished he was that arm. Her cheek pressed against the cool leather, her eyes trained on the flashing images of the Italian countryside.

The credits rolled and Marc got up to stretch, his back popping slightly before he sat back down, turning in the seat to look at Klara who was getting herself back to sitting upright. “What did you think?”

“The ending was nice. I don't understand why she wasn't happy with the first male... he seemed OK?” she asked with uncertainty. “They weren’t compatible, he was too engrossed in his dream, which didn’t include her. A dream should include your mate,” Marc explained kindly. Klara bit her lip looking at him. “But she found that other man, she didn't like him at the beginning, but did at the end?”

“I suppose so, people make mistakes and behave how they shouldn’t. Particularly humans, they don’t have their wolves to tell them what to do, and to tell them who their soulmate is.” Klara nodded, “I liked it,” she whispered, Marc smiled.

“I’m glad.”

“Do you want to watch another?” Klara hesitated, wondering if she should be truthful or just say yes. Marc noticed the hesitation “I won’t be angry,” he reminded kindly. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I-I’m tired,” she whispered.

“OK, remember where the bedroom is?” Klara nodded, standing. “I’ll be in later.” Klara blinked at him. Butterflies exploding in her stomach in fear. “I don’t want to,” she blurted out, before clamping her hand to her mouth, shocked she had said no… she was never allowed to say no. Marc blinked, a little taken aback “You… don’t want to share a bed?” he said carefully.

“I-I’m sorry… it hurts," she whined. "it always hurts,” she whispered. Marc’s eyebrows came together in worry. “It’s OK… I’ll sleep in the spare room,” he swallowed, his wolf whimpered with the perceived rejection.

Klara slipped into bed after finding a long-sleeved top and full-length pyjama bottoms. He said he’d sleep in the spare room, but that didn’t mean he would. So she had to be prepared; there was no lock on the door. She snuggled into the soft sheets, the bed smelt of Marc’s natural scent which made her wolf happy and she soon found her eyes drooping shut.

Her eyes snapped open with a sound. She peered around the room without moving, seeing a figure walk across the room, disappearing into the door for the closet. A few minutes later he walked out, picked something from off the floor. Klara closed her eyes, hoping he’d think her asleep so he wouldn’t try anything.

Marc stood by the edge of the bed, looking down to her still figure, buried under the blankets which were twisted around her body. He lent down brushing his lips against her temple. “Goodnight beautiful,” he whispered as he straightened and left his bedroom. Her t-shirt in his hand so his wolf would allow him to sleep.

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