The Alpha King's Mistress Chapter 19: Story

"My father is Alpha Nicholas's cousin. Since my parents died due to a rogue attack a hundred years ago, the Alpha took care of me. That's why I am living here with him," I continued. I could see Layla's curiosity shining through, and being the curious person I am, I couldn't help but ask a question.

"Just how old are you?"

Layla grinned at me. "Me? I'm 105 years old already."

"Woah, you're old," I replied, trying to lighten the mood.

Layla's hearty laugh echoed in the room as I resumed eating. Her laughter was contagious, and it brought a small smile to my face.

"I like you. You're unintentionally funny," she said, her smile lingering.

A sad smile ghosted on my face. It seemed that a lot of people had liked me in the past, but circumstances had changed, and I wasn't the same person anymore. I focused on eating slowly, trying to avoid upsetting my stomach further.

"I am sure Barbara was shocked every time she saw Nicholas there," Layla muttered to herself.

"More like excited," I chimed in, remembering the face of the club's owner.

Layla shook her head and leaned back on the couch. "Still the same old Barbara. She was happy as long as she received money without any care for others."

I raised my eyes to Layla, noticing the edge in her tone. There was anger there.

"Do you personally know her?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"No. But she was infamous around the pack because she used to put one of the Lycan women to that auction. That woman was bought by a powerful rogue. It was a mess when Alpha Nicholas learned it. He was so angry at Barbara. It was fortunate that she came back to us alive and fine because if not, that Club would have long burned down, and Barbara would be six feet in the ground right now."

The story Layla shared sent a chill down my spine. It sounded eerily familiar, similar to the story my biological mother used to tell me. After all, she was a Lycan. I couldn't help but ask the dreaded question, even though I feared the answer.

"How... How long did she disappear?" I asked, trying to steady my voice.

Layla thought for a moment. "Oh... um... 12 years maybe? I don't exactly remember, but I guess it's 12 years."

"T-that's long," I mumbled, my grip on the fork tightening.

Layla seemed to notice my unease, but she continued innocently, "It was, but she's happy now, so it's fine."

I felt my heart breaking inside my chest. I desperately tried to calm myself, repeating Nasya's comforting words in my mind. Maybe Layla wasn't talking about my mother. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Right, it was just the same story. It was not her.

I looked down at my plate, unable to meet Layla's eyes, fearing that they would betray my inner mess. But the sorrow weighed heavily in my chest, causing me to grip the fork tighter until it snapped in my hand.

In a flash, Layla was in front of me, concern etched on her face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

I forced a smile and nodded, trying to hide the pain that threatened to consume me. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"I'll get you another fork, just wait here—"

"No, it's okay. I'm full," I interrupted, my appetite completely gone. I didn't want to risk getting sick if I forced myself to eat more.

"But you only ate so little," Layla countered, glancing down at my plate.

I placed the unfinished bowl of food on the table, realizing that hunger had left me completely.

"If I eat too much, I might just throw it up," I explained, hoping Layla would drop the subject.

Layla hesitated for a moment before reluctantly nodding. "Okay."

Then, her expression brightened, and she clapped her hands in excitement, picking up the plates. "Enough about Nicholas. It's time to talk about yourself."

I had wanted to ask about the name of the woman Layla mentioned, but I held my tongue, not wanting to push her. Layla had been kind to me, and I didn't want to annoy her by being nosy.

"There's nothing interesting in my life worth telling," I replied, keeping my answer vague and partially true. I had learned that sharing selective details of my life could keep me from lying while still withholding the full truth.

I hinted at the disappointment of Layla, but she respected my response. The other mistresses maybe we're too caught up in their entitlement and conceit to openly discuss their status, but I was different. I despised being Nicholas's mistress.

"Why did you work for a human hotel, though?" Layla asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.

I sadly smiled, "I can't shift, and with that condition, you end up being an outcast."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Layla sincerely replied, her sympathy evident.

"It’s okay," I said casually, taking a sip of water.

"Now that you mention it, I did notice. You didn't have that distinct smell either"

I simply nodded. Every wolf had a distinct scent, but since others couldn't sense my wolf, they couldn't pinpoint my scent either. They also generalize it from the fact that I cannot shift. I didn't bother displaying any notable abilities like quick reflexes either so they all thought that I don’t have a wolf. It made it easier for me to remain hidden.

However, I wasn't sure if the same applied to Nicholas. Mates were special, and they had a bond between them. Because of that bond, I wasn't sure if Nicholas's wolf could sense Nasya or smell our shared scent. But for now, he seemed to still be unaware of my wolf.

"That sucks, and it's already 7:30," Layla sighed, remembering that she needed to help me get dressed.

"Let's talk more later. We should get you changed now because Gayle will be here later," Layla said, trying to shift the focus.

I forced a smile and stood up, relieved that I could walk steadily now and that my shaking had lessened. I let Layla gently tug me toward the bathroom, hoping that this change of topic would distract me from the heavy thoughts weighing me down.