Kaden’s POV

​I stepped closer to the bed and looked down at her. She looked lost inside the oversized gown the head maid had given her, her face so pale it was almost translucent. With hands that felt entirely too large and clumsy for something so fragile, I reached out and began to pull the heavy fabric over her head.

​I stripped her out of the big gown, throwing it carelessly onto the floor. Underneath, she was wearing a simple bra and her panties. Knowing she was on her monthly flow, I left her underwear untouched, mindful of her condition. I laid her down on the sheets, her small, exposed body trembling violently under the cool air of the room.

​My chest tightened as I looked away for a split second, stripping off my own clothes with fast, frantic movements. My shirt, my pants, my boxers—everything hit the floor until I was completely bare, my high Alpha body heat radiating off my skin like a furnace.

​I climbed onto the mattress, the wood groaning under my shifting weight, and slid beneath the thick, heavy duvet. Without a moment’s delay, I reached out and pulled her frozen body directly against mine.

​The moment her skin made contact with my chest, a sharp, ragged gasp left her throat. She whimpered softly in her sleep, a tiny, pained sound that cut straight through my core. But instead of flinching away from the heat, her instincts took over. Her small, shivering arms reached out, wrapping around my torso as she hugged me tighter, burying her icy face right into the crook of my neck.

​I let out a shaky breath, my arms wrapping securely around her waist and shoulders to lock her against me. I pulled the heavy blanket all the way up over both of us, sealing our body heat inside.

​"Fuck," I whispered into the darkness of the empty room, my jaw resting against the top of her damp head. "You are so cold, Rebecca."

​Holding her like this felt dangerous. It felt far too intimate for an Alpha King and his prisoner, for a man and the woman he blamed for his mate’s death. My skin was burning where her freezing flesh pressed against me, and I could feel the rapid, weak flutter of her heart against my ribs.

​I tightened my grip, pulling her so close there wasn’t a single inch of space left between us. I closed my eyes, letting my natural heat seep deep into her skin and bones, cursing myself for how good it felt to hold her.

​Suddenly, under the heavy blankets, the air grew hotter. Rebecca stopped shivering. She started moving restlessly, pressing closer, rubbing herself against me. Her scent changed fast—getting sweeter, thicker, burning with desire. She was going into heat.

​Her skin turned hot. Her breathing got quick and shallow.

​I knew what her body wanted. It wanted me.

​My jaw clenched tight. I reached back and unclasped her bra, pulling it off and throwing it away. Her soft tits pressed against my chest, nipples hard. She whimpered quietly and clutched my shoulders, her hips rolling against my thigh like she couldn’t stop herself.

​I froze. My cock was rock-hard against her, but I shook my head. "No. You’re too weak right now."

​She didn’t listen. Her body kept squirming, legs wrapping around me, rubbing her wet pussy along my thick cock again and again. Her fingers dug into my skin. Her hips pushed forward desperately, begging without words. The sweet smell of her dripping pussy filled the blankets and made my head spin.

​I gritted my teeth, fighting hard. She was bleeding. She was weak. I shouldn’t. But her needy little movements and desperate whimpers kept breaking me down. My control was slipping.

​"Fuck," I growled.

​Only then did I yank her panties down her legs and toss them aside. Her hot, slick pussy was completely exposed now.

​I rolled us onto our sides and pulled her back tight against my chest, spooning her close. One arm went under her head, the other wrapped around her waist, hugging her like I never wanted to let go. My hard cock nestled between her thighs.

​"Easy," I muttered against her ear. "I’ve got you."

​I rocked my hips and pushed forward, sliding my thick cock into her tight pussy inch by inch. She was so fucking wet and hot inside. I groaned deep as I buried every inch, bottoming out completely. Then I held still, arms locked around her, letting her get used to me.

​I started fucking her slowly. Deep, smooth strokes. Not rough. Not angry. Just long, steady thrusts that made her pussy squeeze around my cock. My chest stayed pressed to her back, my arms hugging her tight as I moved inside her. I kissed her neck softly, my hand gently squeezing her tit.

​"You feel so good," I whispered, my voice rough.

​I kept the rhythm slow and loving, grinding deep with every thrust, my hips rolling against her ass. Her pussy fluttered and clenched around me, getting wetter with every stroke. I held her close the whole time, one hand on her belly, the other playing with her hard nipple, kissing her shoulder as I fucked her.

​She pushed back against me, her body shaking with need. I fucked her like that for a long time—slow, deep, and passionate—my cock sliding in and out of her tight pussy while I hugged her like she belonged to me.

​Her breathing got faster. Her pussy started pulsing hard around my cock. "Come for me," I growled softly, thrusting a little deeper, grinding against that spot inside her.

​She came hard, her pussy squeezing and milking my cock in strong waves. The feeling dragged me over with her. I groaned loud and buried my cock deep, filling her with thick, hot cum while I held her tight through every pulse.

​We stayed locked together, my arms still wrapped around her, my cock buried in her pussy. I kissed her shoulder softly, letting my heat warm her from the inside.

​The heavy silence of the bedroom returned, broken only by the sound of our tangled, slowing breaths. For a few long minutes, I just lay there, staring blindly into the dark room.

​Something wasn’t right. Something was completely wrong with me.

​The fog of lust had cleared, leaving me stranded with a terrifying realization.

I am supposed to despise this girl. I am supposed to be punishing her, breaking her, using her as nothing more than a slave and a breeder to pay for the life she took.

​Yet, I had just fucked her like she was the most precious, fragile thing in the entire world.

​I lay perfectly still, my body locking tight as the weight of my own behavior hit me. I hadn’t been rough. I hadn’t been angry. The moment I stepped into that bed, all my hatred had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming, terrifying tenderness.

​I had treated her like a loved, cherished mate.

​Why the hell did I do that?

​A dark panic flared in my chest, more suffocating than any physical wound. I looked down at the back of her head, her damp hair brushing against my chin. Even now, my arms refused to loosen their grip. My body was completely acting on its own, overriding my mind, forcing me to shield her and keep her warm.

​I hated it. I hated how easily she had broken through my armor without even trying. If anyone saw me right now—if Kane or Logan walked in and saw the brutal Alpha King holding a prisoner this gently—my reputation would be completely ruined.

My pride screamed at me to untangle myself, to push her away and remind myself of who she was.

​But as I felt her little body finally relax against mine, her breathing smooth and calm as my heat healed her from the inside, I couldn’t bring myself to move a single inch.