Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Ophelia nervously sat on the vanity chair. She cupped her hands on her lap with her head bowed. She was trembling at the thought of what the punishment could be. 

All her life, Ophelia was taught to not fight back. A child of abuse, she grew up learning the habits of other people. Matriarch Eves hated it when Ophelia cried, so she often took her beatings with silent tears. Haines, Matriarch Eve's right-hand man loved hearing Ophelia's whimpers as she was brutalized, so she won't hold back her complaints.

Now, Ophelia would have to learn Killorn's patterns. How should she react to his pummels? What was her best defense mechanism to give him maximum satisfaction, so that he would stop hitting her?

Ophelia did not grow up learning the arts, literature, and poetry as her sisters. She grew up memorizing the pattern of sickening human behavior. She was a follower, not a leader. Her priority was on survival, even if it meant being a weakling.

"H-he w-wants me t-to look h-him in the eyes," Ophelia began to recite all the things he wanted her to do. 

Ophelia paid thorough attention to those. Don't lower her head in front of him. Don't call him by the proper address. He wanted to hear her call him Killorn. Would that appease his anger? Would that lessen his slaps?

Ophelia needed to learn what he wanted out of this beating. For her to beg for mercy, the same way that Haines relished in? Or, did Killorn want her to take every caning in silence and only flinch as a response? Would that help her situation?

Before Ophelia could continue her thought, the doors rumbled. Her heart stopped. Killorn yanked the doors of his bedroom open. The second he entered, Ophelia lowered herself in a curtsy.

"Y-you've returned…" Ophelia almost called him by the title he abhorred the most. Before he could even say anything, she had already sunk to her knees, ready for the beating.

As Killorn's cold footsteps echoed off the walls of their warm bedroom, she couldn't control her tremors. Ophelia was shaking so hard that her vision blurred. She had lived the past few days in bliss with no harsh blows, thus, was not used to the torture yet. All of that would end today.

When Killorn's leather boots stopped in her prereferral vision, Ophelia closed her eyes in defeat. She braced herself.

Suddenly, a cruel hand grabbed her by the chin. Ophelia stilled, but he yanked her head up, forcing her to look at him.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Ophelia flinched at his rough words. Above all, he was seething even more than when he was in the bunker room. She was aghast. Did she do something wrong again? Glancing at her current position, she saw her dress was spread on the ground, resembling a large flower petal around her.

"The only reason you'll ever be on your knees is to serve me and I'll be damned before that day comes," Killorn spat out with enough venom for her heart to shrivel on the spot. 

"Now get up, Ophelia."

Ophelia instantly did so. Her knees wobbled from his words that sounded so pleasing to the ears, but his tone was terrifying. He was barely controlling his anger on a leash. 

"You never greet me like that ever again, do you hear me?" Killorn growled through clenched teeth. He drew her closer, with her chin as leverage. She stumbled forward. He cupped her lowerback and forced their bodies closer.

Ophelia was shaking like a newborn lamb. Her eyes fluttered and she glanced at his long fingers. What did all of this mean? He never wanted her to kneel and curtsy as such?

"Ophelia," Killorn warned. His voice was lower and suddenly calm as the ripple of water. 

Ophelia could barely hear beyond her shaky heart. "Y-yes…"

"Whatever stunt you pulled before, I won't tolerate it."

"Y-yes," Ophelia shamefully said.

"Now, let me see your wrist," Killorn muttered.

Ophelia was growing dizzy from the whiplash of his emotions. One minute he was cruel and the next, he was concerned. His tone had softened into a gentle caress against her skin. She shivered, for his words lulled her thrashing heart. She shakily touched his upper arm.

Killorn paused. He lowered his voice, almost pained by her thought. "Why are you doing?"

Ophelia threw herself against him. Killorn's eyes widened. It took him less than a second to respond. She tightened her grip around his body, despite the goblin blood that reeked off of him. She buried her face into his armor, the coldness stinging her cheeks.

"Y-you're safe," Ophelia gasped out, as if she had held her breath for the entire night. "Y-you made it back a-alive…"

Killorn felt an abnormal squeeze in his chest. He was warm and giddy, over stupid words. The fierce Commander was disarmed within seconds. His sharp mind monetarily went slack.

"Of course, I'd make it back, you fool. Where else would I go?" Killorn muttered in disbelief. He felt his anger melt away at her clingy nature. Running a hand through her silver locks, he felt her tiny body shudder. She pressed her lithe body even closer against his, almost like a cat eager for more.

Killorn stroked her hair, combing out the lack of tangles.

"I-I was s-scared y-you'd be h-heavily injured," Ophelia confessed. She was barely able to get a grasp over herself. "I-I was so frightened by that thought…"

Ophelia knew she didn't have healthy love patterns like the ones in the books she's read. This man was one of the first to treat her well and she immediately  forgave him. He gave her wealth, a roof over her head, food every night, and she was satisfied. 

Ophelia knew it was easy to take advantage of her, but she was genuinely willing to give herself to him.

"Ophelia, don't do this to me," Killorn muttered. "I have fought many battles, slain hundreds of monsters, defended the nation countless times, but I have never been more wounded than anything, but your words."

Killorn clutched her tightly, his stone heart finally beginning to beat in his chest. Thump. Thump. Thump. He felt the exterior walls shielding his soul and heart begin to crumble and fall onto the spot, for she had awakened all sorts of senses inside of him.

"My sweet, Ophelia, only you can hurt me like this," Killorn admitted in a low and controlled voice. "You are my dear destination home from battle. You must never put yourself in danger like that again. Understand?"