Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Ophelia didn't want to see Lady Mirabelle. Which wife wants to meet the mistress? Ophelia swallowed down her protest, for it was improper of her. If Killorn wanted her to have breakfast with Lady Mirabelle, then it should be done… right?

Ophelia began to convince herself that maybe it was good to meet the mistress early on and establish rules? Yeah, rules would be good… But then, Ophelia changed her mind. She suddenly realized she had no grounds of control over Lady Mirabelle. The mistress must've been by Killorn's side for long, what if Mirabelle was the one creating the rules?

"U-uhm, what if I don't go?" Ophelia mumbled.

Ophelia hated herself for not being able to control her tongue properly. Had it not been for the trauma, she would've been at least able to utter a sentence correctly.

Ophelia couldn't imagine how the servants felt about her. Would they ever respect such a flawed lady of the house?

Ophelia saw Cora's brows raise with every word. She tried to not back down and cave into the older woman's words. No one was more intimidating than Matriarch Eves, anyways.

"Madam, you are human."

'Even the blind can see that.' Ophelia kept the comment to herself. She pressed her lips together and quirked a brow.

"Madam, You do not seem to understand The Sovereignty of the Wolf."

The whats of what?

Ophelia's mind went blank. She expected this conversation with Killorn. She had so much to ask him yesterday night. The topic of his identity—of his people. Exactly who was the man she married two years ago?

"Sovereignty of the Wolf are the physical principles that govern the werewolves—who are now your people, Madam," Cora strictly explained. She raised a perfectly-plucked brow. Sensing the silence, she held back a disappointed sigh.

"You didn't study about us, Madam? Any human should have proper knowledge of the species," Cora deadpanned.

"R-remind me." Ophelia couldn't let people know she received the bare minimum education. She didn't even dare to complain about her lack of tutors. Illegitimate children weren't even supposed to read and write.

Ophelia had been lucky.

"People born in a pack territory will always possess Sovereignty of the Wolf, meaning no werewolf of the pack can reject the Alpha's command. We are physically unable to do so or we feel enough pain to render us immobile. We're sworn loyal to the Alpha and will obey until death do us part."

This was the first time Cora didn't use the proper address.

Ophelia pressed her lips together. Cora was right. Ophelia knew nothing about the werewolves. She grew up with the laws of humans. They had to obey the Emperor and man in charge without hesitation, but nothing bound them except moral obligation. There were punishments for disobedience, but their entire body wasn't controlled by the command.

The werewolves? It was within their nature to obey their Alpha—the leader of the pack. They literally couldn't deny the Alpha's wishes. You'd think such a powerful person was the Supreme Overlord of Werewolves.

"Many have speculated where the Sovereignty come from, but we've concluded that it is something bestowed upon us by the Moon Goddess herself," Cora continued.

Ophelia blinked. She knew the Moon Goddess was the highest praised woman across the entire empire. Both werewolves and vampires alike respected the old legends about her, as they worshiped her as their one true leader.

"If I do not take you to the dining hall, every single servant that overheard the command will be subjected to so much pain, they'll lose all rationality and drag you to the dining hall screaming and kicking, Madam." Cora remained with her hands tucked in front of her apron, even at the crude words.

"So please, Madam—do not burden everyone."

- - - - -

Ophelia couldn't bring herself to face the music. How does one expect to talk to the husband's favored mistress? Ophelia didn't grow up with a mother. She didn't know these kinds of things.

Ophelia's wetnurse's advice always seemed like the law. Killorn didn't like it when Ophelia listened to the wetnurse's words. Though, he didn't know she was obliging. Now, Ophelia didn't know the proper virtues of being his wife.

"Madam, this way," Cora stated, whilst opening the door.

Immediately, the butler stationed by the entrance announced her presence. "Here comes, Lady of House Mavez!"

Ophelia's heart skipped. The official lady of House Mavez. Her head was dizzy with the thought, for the incident of the auction house burned in her memory. Was a woman like her even deserving of this title? She couldn't tell.

"You're here!" A voice cheerfully called out, just as a beautiful woman rose to her feet.

Ophelia was at a loss for words. She had never seen someone so adorable yet breathtaking at the same time. Her hazel locks were curly and framed her green eyes perfectly, with a button nose, freckles decorating her tanned skin, and small lips.

"Come, you must try the meat stew, I caught the rabbit just this morning," Mirabelle gushed whilst grabbing her hands and pulling her towards the table.

Ophelia was stunned speechless. She felt like a rag doll being pulled towards Mirabelle's direction. She could tell why Killorn must've loved her. Mirabelle was energetic, whereas Ophelia was silent. Mirabelle was the brilliant sun and Ophelia the pitiful moon.

"You're so much prettier than I expected, goodness, my heart is beating hard just at the sight of you," Mirabelle rambled whilst forcing Ophelia to sit down.

​ Ophelia's face burned at the complement. Mirabelle was too kind. Had she not seen her own beauty in the mirror? Not even a well-bred Princess could compare to Mirabelle.

"It is no wonder Killorn burned down House Nileton for you, I would too." Mirabelle settled a hot bowl in front of the lady and gestured for her to eat.

"Though, you are very thin. Are you alright?" Mirabelle persisted with a slight frown.

Ophelia's throat tightened. The auction house starved her. She barely ate anything except for the hard bread and smelly water.

"And quite pale too, are you cold?" Mirabelle gently questioned.

Ophelia didn't know how to respond. She heard mistresses were vicious and cunning. Was this a ploy? Mirabelle's eagerness to engage with Ophelia made her anxious. What was up the stunning woman's sleeves?

"Perhaps you do not like meat stew? That stupid wolf, all brawns and no brains!" Mirabelle huffed, whilst glancing around the table. "You must forgive us, we rarely have human guests. Would you like the chefs to prepare you a vegetable soup? It will be quick."

Ophelia opened her mouth, but Mirabelle continued.

"You must be exhausted from Killorn's attention, a hearty porridge will fix you immediately. I know he has no care for women, much less the way he'd treat you in bed. He's barbaric, that one."

Ophelia stiffened. Her mind went numb. "D-does he… " she cut herself off.

Ophelia was morbid at the thought of asking the mistress how Killorn treated her in bed. Obviously, it was a private matter. Her ears burned. Did Killorn embrace Mirabelle with the same tenderness? Did he affectionately rest his forehead against hers? Did he reassure her everything would be alright?

"Hm? What was that?" Mirabelle asked.

"H-how would you k-know?" Ophelia muttered.

Mirabelle slowly blinked. "Well, I—"

"Lady Mirabelle, please sit down. You are frightening the Madam," Cora finally commented with a deep frown. "You are being improper."

"Everything is improper to you," Mirabelle groaned. "Starting with your scowl!"

Ophelia's eyes widened.

"It is no wonder you have more wrinkles than I can count," Mirabelle continued whilst going around the table.

"Can you only count above the number three, Lady Mirabelle?" Cora deadpanned.

Mirabelle's face burned. She glowered at the head housekeeper who in return, offered a knowing smile. Without another word, Cora bowed her head and exited the dining room.

Finally, a stiffening silence ensued.

Ophelia realized Mirabelle was staring her down, almost as if waiting for her to eat the morning stew. Unable to hold it in anymore, Ophelia finally opened her mouth.

"Y-you're my husband's mistress, right?"