"Hmm," Valen moaned in pain as his body shifted from the stiff position it had been in for hours.
His eyes fluttered open, and for a few seconds, he tried to gather his senses.
"Where am I?" he whispered, turning his head to take in the dark appearance of the room. He was on a bed, and that seemed to be the only valuable thing he could recognize. As he struggled to sit up, memories of what had happened flooded his mind, and he gasped for breath as his hands instinctively wrapped around his chest.
His eyes widened as realization dawned on him.
He didn't know how long he had been unconscious. What if his disguise had already been discovered, and they were just waiting for him to wake up so they could kill him? The thought made his stomach churn.
"Calm down, Valen. Relax. Things can't just go all bad right now," he muttered to himself.
He quickly checked his clothes, and they were still intact. That surprised him, but still, anything could have happened to him while unconscious. Nothing was guaranteed here.
The only thing he could do now was run.
He sprang off the bed, ignoring the sting of pain that surged through his body, and dashed to the door, and almost immediately, the door flung open, stopping him in his tracks.
That face appeared again, and he yelped, stumbling backward and almost falling, but...
He felt a hand hold him around his waist, preventing him from falling. He opened his eyes slowly to find a familiar face, gripping his waist to steady him, and he gulped loudly.
The face looked too familiar, and that was when it hit him.
"This one is mine."
Those words echoed in his mind, and suddenly, he remembered. The mad King of the Lycanis. The man he saw seconds before collapsing. With fear, Valen pulled away and distanced himself, but the King's eyes didn't leave his, and that made Valen's pulse quicken. He wondered if he already knew his real gender and was going to kill him?
It was too late to escape now.
His lips trembled, and his entire body began to shake when the mad king slowly walked toward him. Valen stepped back until he fell onto the bed, and the man followed, climbing onto the mattress, his tall frame towering above him, his face close.
Valen had heard stories about the mad king, but no one had ever mentioned how damn attractive he was.
His eyes were the color of dusk, soft, deep, and haunting. His aura was dark, quiet, and full of unspoken danger. His beauty wasn't loud. It whispered, and that whisper settled like heat under Valen's skin.
How could a man so beautiful be a devil?
The King leaned in slowly, savoring the tension between them. His lips hovered just a breath from Valen's, and his finger brushed over Valen's lower lip.
A shiver ran through Valen's entire body, and just then, the king sighed. Pulled away and climbed off the bed.
Valen remained frozen, trying to remember how to breathe.
"You survived," the King said in a low, raspy voice as he turned to sit on a chair Valen hadn't noticed before.
Valen scrambled to his feet and quickly stood in a submissive posture, hands clasped behind his back, with his head bowed.
"I am surprised I did, my lord."
"I would be surprised too. You've been out for two days, and you're the only foreign man to survive the effect," the king said flatly, rubbing his hand against the chair.
Valen exhaled, not out of relief, but wariness.
"Which is why I chose you," the king added, staring at Valen with what seemed to be amusement.
Valen's head shot up like he'd been stung.
"Chose me? For what, my lord?"
"To be my temporary right-hand man, until Aldridge returns from the warfront. I'll need someone to stand in. You almost have the same will as Aldridge, so you'll pass for now." He paused, closing his eyes as silence wrapped the room.
"Aldridge will tell you what to do," he added, stood up from the chair, and made his way out.
Valen was still looking at the space in disbelief, and just then, a man approached him with a cold expression.
"Valen from the house of Draegon?"
He stood straight. "Yes."
"Come with me," the man ordered, and turned on his heel as he began walking a different route from the one he had come from. When he noticed Valen hadn't followed, he paused and glanced at Valen over his shoulder.
"Aldridge is expecting you. Don't keep him waiting." Then he walked to a door and opened it.
Valen hesitated to step into the pitch-dark room, but the man shoved him inside and slammed the door. Valen screamed and charged, ready to fight, only to freeze when the lights flicked on.
"It's weird for someone who's supposed to be the King's right-hand man to be this fearful. I don't think the King is in safe hands," a voice said, and Valen immediately turned towards the direction the voice came from.
It was the same man who had brought him and the others in for the tests, one of the intimidating ones with an eye patch. Valen gulped and nearly trembled.
"I wasn't afraid," he replied quickly. "Just shocked by being shoved. Any reasonable man would react the same way."
"Then such a man is weak. Did Draegon ever lecture you on that? Or did you inherit your father's cowardice?" the man blurted.
The words hit Valen like a slap, and he was forced to punch the smirk off the man's face, but he knew it would cost him everything. The eye-patched man stood up from his chair and headed to Valen, who he was towering, but that didn't make Valen flinch. Helet out a small chuckle and tossed a scroll at Valen.
"Here are the rules of being the King's right-hand man."
Valen opened the scroll, gazing at the long inscribed rule on it, and wasn't listening to whatever the man was saying till he mentioned something that hit him.
"You must be with him twenty-four-seven, and this includes when he eats, sleeps, holds a meeting, takes a walk, bathes, and even during…"
Aldridge paused, watching Valen's expression.
"…pleasure time."
"By pleasure time, you mean?" Valen's brow furrowed.
"Are you not a man? Don't you understand what a man does when he seeks pleasure? You are expected to be there and watch everything. "