07| golden-eyed teddy

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07; golden-eyed teddy

Chelsea frowned at his words as they replayed in her head.

You will remain in the place as a maid.

The rank of filth on the ground.

she stared blankly at his retreating figure and the dungeon keepers who silently closed the gates behind him again. In the dim ray of light that shone through the tiny dungeon windows from the moon that night, she could make out the glimmering parts of him that were drenched in perspiration.

The King had almost been what he had been rumoured to be. He was tall and broad. Not broad like a wrestler but broad enough to show that he is incredibly fit. In his naked form, it had taken Chelsea her everything to lower her gaze to peek a glance at the extra limb dangling between his legs.

It was not as though Chelsea had never seen one, but this round had been slightly different. Her wolf stirred within her.

Her mate was the King of Alphas. The monster with golden eyes. The King who lost his heart the moment he was crowned at fifteen.

Chelsea remembered the news broadcasting about the Royal event on her thirteenth birthday. For the first time, in the werewolf world, a fifteen-year-old boy had to ascend to the throne. The world did not know what had happened to the previous King and Queen. All that was said was the King and Queen met an accident during their trip to the human world.

After that, strict rules were put in place for no werewolf to venture out to the human world regardless of the reason. It was a big deal. The world awaited with watchful eyes, to bow to their new King who was only fifteen then.

Maybe it had been pure coincidence that his coronation was on her birthday and they met as mates nine years later. Maybe his parents' early death was, in fact, an unplanned tragedy. Maybe humans not really were despicable creatures as the werewolf committee had insisted they were.

But one thing for sure, newly turned thirteen years old Chelsea was watching the coronation that day. The ceremony was held in the Palace, and all the media and their cameras were stationed before the thrones. The live broadcast was scheduled to start in minutes. Like every other werewolf, Chelsea was sitting on her living room couch, eyes on the entire throne room displayed on the television.

It had been a chilly day, the rain poured outside the window. It started some time a day ago and has not stopped since. Thirteen years old Chelsea had a blanket over her little body and her favourite Teddy bear in her arms.

So she was thirteen, perhaps too old to be carrying her Teddy bear around.
And she did not take it everywhere she went. It was only at home and when it rains outside. Her teddy bear was given to her only moments after she was born. The white Teddy bear had golden eyes. A weird match of colours, to be quite frank. But Chelsea adored it with all of her heart.

When the ceremony finally ended, everyone was talking about how young the new king had been. They could not seem to get over the fact. The fact that his parents had died so suddenly and the kingdom's future was in the hands of a fifteen-year-old boy now.

All thirteen years old Chelsea could think about at that time was the way the fifteen years old boy had looked sitting on the throne alone; He had looked devastated. His eyes were red in the corners, and he was staring off at something behind the cameras the entire time. Nobody had seemed to notice then, but Chelsea did. He wasn't looking at the camera, he wasn't seeing anything at all. He plainly was not present despite physically arriving at his coronation.

Before the television, Chelsea squeezed her golden-eyed Teddy bear closer to her chest. The sad girl noticed the sad boy. She didn't know him as anyone, but the people's new King, and yet her heart ached for him. If anyone understood what pretending to be alright truly felt like, it would have been them both. They were sitting on different chairs, in different places at the exact moment. But what they felt had been the same- loneliness and pain.

While families were huddled up on their couches watching the coronation together, thirteen years old Chelsea sat on her large couch with only her golden-eyed Teddy bear by her. While families are in front of their television screens at that very moment, the fifteen years old King is before the cameras sitting on his father's throne, alone.

Twenty-two years old Chelsea today finally met her mate five days ago. Four years later than some, two years later than most. In the dirty dungeon where she lay bloodied and bruised, naked after a fight with her mate. She wondered if what she had just witnessed was indeed the sad boy that she remembered from the television.

The sad boy was no longer a boy. He had grown up into a beautiful man. There had been gossip back in different packs she had visited. The media were blocked off by the royals right after the coronation of the young King. Ever since then, there have been no photographs or articles about the current King. People on the streets spoke of their young King with fear. At times, gossip would spread, and rumours of the young King's good physiques would reach Chelsea's ears.

He had just stripped her from her pride and left her bleeding, Chelsea reminded herself in disbelief. And yet, she had the time to think about all that.

"come on now," someone said waving an oversized clean shirt before her, breaking her train of thoughts. "King's order, we'll get you cleaned up."

Chelsea glanced up to find the beta who took her in here standing before her. Her frown only deepened.

"I promised this shirt isn't sweaty like the last time," he joked, extending the shirt in his hand closer to her.

She slowly raised her arm to reach for it, whining as the muscle on her wounded side stretched as well. She swallowed the pain and threw the shirt on, pulling it to her mid-thighs. Standing up slowly as she did, while using the wall as support.

"where are we going?" she tried to ask, her voice slightly breaking. She cleared her throat, in embarrassment. The beta must have heard it but was gentlemanly enough not to react to it.

The beta's fingers wrapped themselves around Chelsea's bicep, trying to offer her support. "out of the dungeon grounds."

Chelsea's frown could not deepen any further. He was not exactly answering her questions. Does she have to resume her maid duties immediately?

"No, luna. That would come after you're clean." The beta answered, chuckling and shaking his head amusingly. A small smile played on his lips as he guided her out of the dungeon carefully.

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Pretty Red Eyes (previously "KING, AGAIN")Where stories live. Discover now