Page 156 of Evil Hearts

Chapter 5:Kyliana

“ M mm, this is so fucking good,” I moan at the delicious taste of the breakfast that the maids brought in. I tried to follow them out but that bitch of a witch locked my essence in with the spell so everyone else can come and go but I’m stuck like a fucking captive instead of betrothed.

I might as well be considering he has a fucking sex slave fulfilling his needs. Damn maids gossip about everything and anything and I was exposed to far too much of their bullshit while trapped in here. Stupid spell doesn’t block sound and this castle fucking echoes. How am I supposed to seduce a man who can get it at the snap of his fingers? If I fail and my bitch of a mother can’t rule this land, she will kill me herself… or try anyways. I have no intention of going out like that.

A loud scraping pulls me from my thoughts as the door opens revealing the witch who locked me in here and fury engulfs me at the sight of her.

“You fucking bitch!” I lunge for her throat but she steps aside and casts a protection spell around herself stopping my second attempt before it can even begin.

“I know you are angry, Princess, but the King has summoned you to his throne room. He requests you change into something nice,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze never reaching me.

“Something nice? What is this, a fucking doll house where he can decide what I wear and when? No fucking thanks. I’ll change but it won’t be something nice.”

Fear flashes in her eyes at my words and she begins to protest but one of the younger maids pulls her aside and closes my door. Thankfully they at least threw my luggage in here this morning so I throw it onto the bed and unzip it, pulling out one of my favorite pairs of tight-fitting flared jeans and a white tank top that has a cute little devil emoji on the front and says “I speak fluent brat”. One hundred percent accurate. Changing my clothes, I put my old ones in the basket perched on the dresser and slide my boots on, checking that my ponytail is secured neatly on my head.

Stepping to the door, I knock twice to let them know I’m ready and wait for the door to slide fully open before I step towards the three women waiting expectantly for me in the hall. Leading me down hall upon hall that I vaguely remember from yesterday, they remain quiet, never uttering a single word aside from the occasional grunt signaling I need to hurry up.

We stop in front of a large wooden door so tall that I’m pretty sure it’s connected to the domed ceiling. Arietta knocks briskly on the door and after a moment, it swings wide revealing the Orc King himself sitting on his throne like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His face twists up in a smirk as he rises and comes to stand before me, his smile widening to that of a business man about to make a big deal.

“I see you chose your finest attire,” he says, his eyes roaming over my body and coming to rest on the crests of my chest.

“My eyes are up here and yes, yes I did. I rather enjoy being comfortable.”

His eyebrows raise at my petulance.

“Your king summoning you with an order to wear your finest isn’t worth your obedience?” he asks, his voice dangerously close to a growl as his smirk slips, replaced by a scowl.

“One, you’re a king, though not my king. Two, you didn’t ask me nicely, and three I’m not a dog so obedience is not something you can obtain from me.”

A deep, abrasive growl fills the room and he takes a step towards me but remains far enough to avoid touching me.

“One day, you will bow to me. It may not be now but it will happen, Princess.”

“Yeah, you keep on dreaming big guy,” I say, patting his arm like a small puppy, a zap of electricity shooting up my arm and making me gasp. I cover with a chuckle but my heart feels like it’s clenched in the jaw of a dog and being shaken vigorously. A mate bond. How could this be?

“Sire, your outing with the princess is prepared.” A seedy-looking man interrupts as he sweeps through the door.

“Thank you, Urzog. You may go.”

I watch as a speck of irritation flashes through his eyes and a quick glance up to the King reveals that he noticed it too. I wonder what the story is there.

“Kyliana, we have something we need to do before we start the weekly required courting outings. As you know when you get betrothed you have to complete the Oath of Amity. Arietta will tell us what to do and once we complete that, we will go on our first outing.”

“I’m aware of how this works. Let’s get started already.” Rolling my eyes, I follow Arietta as she begins setting up the table and Oath bound item, two small silver bracelets that we will both wear. As we step up to the table, she hands each of us one of them.

“You will take turns putting these on each other while reciting the short Oath. Are you both ready?”

We nod in unison and turn to face each other and I find myself having to tilt my head up to look at him and my breath catches as his purple eyes seem to ripple.

“Repeat after me. I am bound by the betrothal and vow my unwavering support, love, and strength. I will not harm my betrothed in any way or may I be granted death.”

We take turns repeating the oath and latching the bracelets onto each other’s arms, both of us freezing briefly as a current forms between our hands.

“To seal the Oath, you must place a gentle kiss on your betrothed’s lips, my lord,” she says, acknowledging only the king. He nods once, stepping up to me and stealing a gentle kiss from my lips as soft as a whisper. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, begging to be let out so it can run to this stranger but I will keep it caged. Giving my heart to the Orc King would surely be my ruin. Now to get through the next few weeks without losing my will to fight the mate bond pull that I now feel so clearly embedded into my very soul.