Bloodbound to the Beastly King

Adina smoothed the edge of Thorne's shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as she fastened the clasp at his collar. This was one part of her duties she was thankful to have never done, dressing the king.

Well, today, all of her gratitude was thrown out the window because today, Thorne decided she was to dress him like she should've always done.

Now she stood before him, hands fitting his shirt, not daring to look at him. Joy when she could feel his gaze on her, hot and piercing. She swallowed hard, struggling to keep her fingers steady as she worked through his clothes.

No—she didn't like this particular work. Having him so near to her, his scent permeating through the remaining cells in her brain. It was torture.

Adina's breath felt shallow, caught somewhere between her chest and throat. His shirt slipped beneath her trembling fingers as she tried to fasten the last clasp. She dared not glance up, not when she could feel the intensity of his stare.

Every inch of her skin felt aware of him—it was driving her mad.

She straightened abruptly, needing space, needing air. But the second she did, she froze.

Thorne was right there.

His face so close she could see the dark lashes framing his eyes, could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across her cheek.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. What in the world…

His gaze flickered to her lips for the briefest second and his breath hitched. Then he looked back at her, his eyes darker than before. Adina's knees weakened at the sight.

Slowly, his fingers brushed against her cheek. "I'm done fighting it," he murmured, his voice low and rough like it scraped over stones.

Her lips parted in shock, but she couldn't seem to find any words.

What did he mean by that? What was going on?

His eyes dropped to the mark on her neck—the mark that burned at the memory of his bite. Slowly, he lifted his hand, his fingers brushing against the mark lightly.

Adina shivered, eyes shutting instantly. It was not only nerve-wracking. It was electrifying.

Thorne's tongue darted out, licking his lips slowly, his eyes flickering from her now closed eyes to her nose, to her slender neck.

She was…

Knock, knock.

A sharp knock broke them out of their reverie, breaking the moment.

"Your Majesty. The seamstress is here." A maid who sounded a lot like Kora voiced out, and Adina's eyes snapped open.

She stepped back, eyes down, unable to look at him in the eye. Not after what just happened. It somehow seemed even more intimate than the kiss they've shared.

Thorne hesitated for a heartbeat longer, his eyes on her, finally he stepped back, his jaw clenched. "Let her in."

The seamstress stepped into the room with a smile and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty," she said. She was a petite middle-aged woman.

Thorne hummed, "Welcome, Ena. Let's get started," he replied, and the woman straightened up, a small smile on her lips. Her gaze flickered to Adina who now stood at the corner. She acknowledged her with a nod and got right to work.

Adina had somehow forgotten about the seamstress who was scheduled to arrive at the palace for Thorne's measurements, after all, he was leaving Obsidian for a couple of days. News of the Moon festival that was taking place in the Blood Crest pack had racked the palace for days now, and it wasn't surprising that the king of the realm was attending.

It took longer than Adina expected, maybe an hour or two with the occasional quiet words from the seamstress asking Thorne to move his arm or turn slightly. Adina tried to focus on anything else but him, and finally, the seamstress was done with the measurements.

She stepped back, satisfied, and started packing her things.

Adina sighed, relieved that it was over. But then, just as Ena was about to leave, Thorne spoke again. His voice was calm but firm.

"Measure her too."

Adina's head snapped up, eyes wide at his words.

The seamstress blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Your Majesty?"

"Y-your Majesty," Adina stammered, her voice small. "I'm not going anywhere, I don't need—"

Thorne glanced at her, brows arched. "You're coming with me. To the festival," he said.

Adina froze. She was coming along with him? All this while she thought he was going without her, and she had rejoiced about it. She'd finally have a break from the bond, the fear, the excitement. Everything. She'd even have a break from Freya, who had made it her life mission to find out about his schedule of the day from her.

But now, what?

"M-my king," Adina stammered, looking for a way around it, but there wasn't any. There's no room for argument. No room for anything, really, except the sound of Adina's heart pounding in her ears.

"Go ahead," Thorne said, and the seamstress nodded, beckoning Adina to come forward.

The seamstress hesitated slightly, then gathered her tools again and turned to Adina. The measuring began, and Adina stood there, stiff and awkward, every nerve ending aware of Thorne's gaze on her.

When the seamstress measured her waist, Adina couldn't help but glance at him—and sure enough, his eyes were already on her, watching like he was memorizing every inch.

Adina swallowed hard, every inch of her body felt like it was on fire. She was beginning to sweat, and it wasn't even hot.

Finally, the seamstress straightened, scribbling down the last of her notes, and nodded approvingly. "That'll do. I'll get started right away, Your Majesty."

Thorne held his hand out, stopping her. "Make three dresses. She'll need one for each day of the festival."

Adina's mouth parted in protest, but no sound came out. Three? Three dresses? She was just a servant. Why would she need three dresses?

"Yes, Your Majesty," she bowed, but before she left, she paused, patting her pockets. "Oh, Your Majesty requested to have some links embedded into your clothes. So I don't make mistakes, would His Majesty be kind enough to show me some samples?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. I'll get it," Adina blurted out immediately, latching onto that excuse and practically ran into the closet room. She knew what the seamstress needed, after all, she was the one who arranged his room.

Leaning against a shelf, she pressed her palm over her racing heart. "Okay, Adina. Breathe. Just breathe," she whispered to herself, cheeks flushed, mind spinning.

She had no idea what was going on with Thorne anymore. At least, before she was able to understand his behavior towards her, but this…this was surprising. Shocking and disturbingly strange.

She bit her lip as he kind of wandered off. What was he playing at? Is this real? Is she still sleeping?

She shook her head as she slapped her cheeks repeatedly. No, it was real.

She took a deep breath, grabbed the link the seamstress needed, took another deep breath because she needed air that didn't smell like Thorne.

She turned to leave only to slam straight into a brick wall.

"Ouch," she muttered, only for her eyes to widen dramatically as she realized there wasn't any wall behind her. No.

She'd only slammed right into Thorne who had followed her in.

"Y-your Majesty," she stammered, her face burned red, she clutched the link tightly, her body trembling. "I was just bringing this—"

Thorne didn't say anything at first. His eyes bore into hers intensely, like he was trying to memorize every inch of her skin.

Finally, he reached out, taking it gently from her fingers. "No need. She's gone. She'll figure it out."

Adina blinked. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm, too him.

She gulped hard and took a shaky step back, ready to bolt right out of there. Of course, she didn't get to.

He grabbed her hand before she could even turn away. She looked at him, watching as he licked his lips, watching his eyes drop to her neck yet again.

"I meant what I said earlier," he murmured, his voice so low it sent shivers down her spine.

She blinked, his words from earlier rushing back into her head. 'I'm done fighting this.' He had said, leaving her confused back then and even more now.

What was this? The bond? His feelings? Whatever it was, it scared her.

Her chest felt tight as his gaze stayed locked on her.

Thorne released her hand, his fingers slipping away so slowly it made her shiver all over again. For a second, she thought he might pull her back. But he didn't.

That was all the permission she needed.

Adina turned and bolted. She could feel his stare on her back as she fled the room, as if his eyes were still touching her even though he wasn't.

She didn't stop until she was down the hall, far enough that she couldn't hear his footsteps even if he had followed.

Adina leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her cheeks, her skin burning hot.

What is happening? What is he doing to me?