Escaping The King's Confinement

CHAPTER 4:

The lids of his eyes felt unbearably heavy as he struggled to pry them open. When a sharp beam of sunlight streamed through the window, piercing his eyes, he instinctively raised a hand to shield himself from the intrusive light.

"Ugh."

.A wince escaped him, the ache around his eye intensifying. Yet, despite the discomfort, he compelled himself to move, desperate to escape the confines of the bed and evade the king once more.

"Stay still, your highness," came a voice that jolted him from his thoughts.

Ishan turned to find the speaker, startled.

"Fan," he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.

"Your body is over fatigued, and there's a risk you might fall when you try to stand up," he cautioned, concern etched across his features.

"Where am I?" he managed to inquire, his mind racing to piece together his surroundings.

"You are in the palace, your highness," he replied, a hint of insistence in his tone.

"Stop calling me that, please!" His voice rose involuntarily, frustration spilling over as he implored Fan to abandon the title. "Because I’m not."

"Yes, you are. You are the king's wife, so—"

"Cut the crap. Just don’t call me that. And please, let me get out of here," he interrupted, urgency lacing his words.

"Your highn—"

"Enough, Fan! I said stop calling me that!" he barked, infusing his tone with anger in hopes that she would finally cease referring to him in such noble terms.

"Then allow me to call you by your name," he replied, his voice imbued with understanding of him unspoken desire.

"Much better. So please, let me....."

"No," he interrupted softly, shaking his head.

He hesitated, grappling with the weight of his next words.

"Look, Ishan."

His gaze intensified, carrying a seriousness that cut through the palpable tension.

"The king ordered my husband to instruct his men to guard you. So even if you manage to open that door, you still can’t leave the palace."

He gestured towards the room's door, emphasizing the trap he was in.

"F-fan."

"Just relax," he urged gently. "The king can’t hurt you anymore, not here. He’s no longer in his kingdom, his territory. The extent of his power now is to prevent your escape." His long hair framed his face as he studied her with concer.

"But..." he murmured, the fear lingering in his voice.

"Don’t worry. I’ll see what I can do. For now..."

Fan moved closer to him, retrieving the tray he had placed down earlier.

"I’ve brought you something to eat. You need your strength for what lies ahead."

"Huh," he replied, his resistance faltering as he glanced at the food.

"I’m also an omega, Ishan. That’s why I can sense the life growing within you. To confirm it, I called Dr. Velasquez, and he assured me you are pregnant. But don’t worry, I am the only one who knows your condition in this entire palace."

Silence enveloped them, leaving a heavy void after Fan’s revelation. Taking a deep breath, he released a sigh of tension, his heart battling between hope and despair.

Unable to resist the kindness he extended, he picked up the food and began to eat, each bite a reluctant step towards both survival and acceptance.

He clung to the notion that the king wouldn’t harm him, for the thought of enduring his cruelty again was unbearable. Deep down, the resolve surged within him; he would find a way to escape, no matter what it took.

….

"Fuck." Karrim's voice came out slurred, a thick haze of frustration coating his words.

Zarim's anger boiled over as Karrim confronted him, his tone laced with irritation after revealing the harsh realities of their kingdom and the circumstances that had led him to this moment.

"Are you satisfied now?" Zarrim snapped, a challenge hanging in the air.

Karrim's eyes narrowed, displaying a mix of opposition and concern.

"Yeah! But what are you going to do about the Alpha who marked your wife?" His inquiry hung heavily, sparking annoyance in him.

With a sudden, harsh motion, he stood up, his back turned to Karrim as he wrestled with the confusion of emotions swirling within.

"Hey! Where the hell are you going?" Karrim called out, his voice tinged with urgency and disbelief.

"To cover my wife’s mark," he retorted angrily, each word dripping with raw determination.

"You know that won't work," he countered, his voice laced with both logic and desperation.

The thought of another Alpha claiming his wife twisted his gut, igniting a flame of rage within him.

The very idea of her being with someone else, of another man possessing him, made his blood boil. He would find a way to erase that mark from his nape because, in his heart, he believed he was the only one deserving of such a claim.

......

"You’re awake," he said seriously, addressing the already alert figure standing by the window.

"Leave me alone," he replied, his voice weak yet resolute, refusing to meet his gaze.

Although he hadn’t intended to release his pheromones, he knew it was his only option to keep ho

from being obstinate.

A deep-seated knowledge swelled within him; despite another’s claim on him, the lingering resonance of his own pheromones remained strong within him.

It was one of the few tactics he could wield to overshadow the marks of other Alphas with his own.

Frustration welled within him as he couldn't tolerate his avoidance any longer.

In a swift motion, he grabbed his arm, eliciting a struggle that prompted him to draw him closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

"Hmmm. You smell good, habibi," he murmured, intoxicated by his scent that seemed to seep from him, unbidden.

"L-let me g-go," he stuttered, his voice trembling.

"No, I won’t, habibi." He pressed his nose into his shoulder, planting soft kisses there. "Ahmmm. So sweet," he whispered, as his lips trailed rhythmically along his shoulder and neck.

"Hmmm. Why not tell him to reject you, habibi?" he suggested, lips grazing the nape of his neck where the Alpha mark lay.

Raging emotions ignited within him, and he released his pheromones more intensely, filling the room with an overwhelming haze meant to intoxicate his wife and assert his claim.

"F-f**k you. Hmmmm," he gasped, caught in the storm of sensations.

"Yes, habibi, I will. But for now, I want you to beg me to f**k you."

Before he could formulate a response, his fangs emerged, hunger glinting in his eyes as he yearned to reclaim the mark on his neck while he continued to emit his pheromones.

"I will cover this mark with mine, habibi," he stated, just before sinking his fangs into his flesh, where the Alpha’s mark had sunk before. A primal desire surged through him as he connected with his essence.

"Ugh. Uhmmmm," he moaned softly, his struggles melting into surrender as his hands ceased their resistance, but his fingers still cradled his head with a mix of desperation and yearning.

"Hmmmm."

He succumbed to the moment, savoring the taste of his blood flowing around his fangs, inhaling the intoxicating aroma of his pheromones rising like an enchanting mist.

"Ahhhhhmmm. Hmmmm."

Ishan felt enveloped in blissful clouds as he sank deeper into pleasure, his fangs firmly entwined in his neck, both marking and intertwining their fates.