The Devil's Cursed Witch

Unaware of his errant thoughts, Ember stepped out of bed, wanting to apologize and explain why she was there.

“Your Majesty, apologies. Last night–“

“Help me get dressed,” Draven interrupted her. “That is, if your apology is sincere.”

Her body that was halfway to a bow suddenly straightened, and her emerald green eyes blinked at him in puzzlement. Her body shivered the moment her gaze trailed down from his face down towards his broad chest, and further down–

“Ah…I…should I?”

She realized he was telling her to help him wear his clothes; in short, she had to do one of Erlos’ tasks as the King’s attendant.

“Won’t you?” she heard his voice grow cold.

“I will!” she cried out in a hurry. “I am sincere so I will help!”

“What are you waiting for?” Draven spread his arms to the side, prompting her to start. ” You can start by getting the clothes on the rack.”

For some reason, Ember felt a hint of irritation growing. Was it the way his red eyes flashed in her direction, or that annoying bored tone that sounded like there was no room for her to disobey him?

In her opinion, he looked like a bully who intentionally wanted to trouble her.

‘He knows very well I will be affected by his scent! Why is he like this? And then when I can’t stop myself, he will probably blame it on me that I can’t control myself.’

“You can’t help me by standing there,” she heard his cold voice say, and she noticed him glaring at her as if telling her his patience was about to run out.

Ember quickly stepped towards the clothes hung on the wooden rack and took the cream-coloured long-sleeved shirt. Since Erlos gave a lengthy introduction about the clothes earlier, she had a vague idea of which articles of clothing should be worn over the other.

With him so near to her, the refreshingly masculine scent she was smelling from her mate was hitting her strongly. She wanted to try her best to control herself. At one point, she thought she should have practiced holding her breaths for situations when she needed to be near Draven.

She held the cream shirt in her hand and looked at Draven’s muscular form. Since the man was facing the mirror, the entirety of his back was facing her.

Solid yet lean, defined and toned…

Her gaze could not help but wander around the toned muscles so visible on his back despite him simply standing leisurely. It travelled from his strong neck to those broad shoulders, and then down to his trimmed waist. Anything beyond was covered by the black pants he was wearing, but those firm bottoms fit his pants snugly. She could not help but gulp, and unknown to her, her eyes were getting wider the more she stared at her man.

“If you are done observing, start helping me dress,” Draven spoke, his red eyes staring at her through the reflection on the full-length mirror. None of her reactions went unnoticed by him.

Ember felt like a thief who was caught red-handed. Warmth spread across her cheeks in embarrassment.

‘How awkward!’

She didn’t dare look at him and instead held the shirt behind him after observing which side was the right one.

Draven, who was being affected by her smell as well, held back a hint of a smile. He silently appreciated his mate’s effort as she was obviously trying her best to control herself from the temptation of his scent. It wasn’t like last time, when she had completely lost her mind the moment she was but an arm’s length away from him.

He put his hands in the sleeve of the shirt while waiting for Ember to pull it up. Ember did so and made sure it was worn properly, but then suddenly, Draven turned around to face her which made her jump back a few steps.

Startled by his abrupt action, she lowered her gaze as her breath got stuck in her throat. Her heart was beating so fast with just a glimpse of his front. It seemed like she could not stand looking at him bare-chested.

Draven acted as if it wasn’t a deliberate deed on his part, wanting to test the improvement of his little mate’s control.

“You need to button my shirt,” he prompted the girl nervously standing in front of him.

A chill ran down her spine and goosebumps appeared on her skin.

‘His eyes are on me. If I’m that close, I only need to raise my head and his lips will be…My self-control…What if…Can I do it…?’

She felt her heart beating faster and faster, and she could not tell whether this was caused by his demand, or his scent, or her imagination running wild. Maybe it was a combination of all three.

With a shaky breath, she steeled her resolve and stood at a certain distance enough for her to be able to button his shirt. His scent was affecting her greatly, and she had to breathe thinly through her mouth, trying her best not to let that delicious scent tempt her to raise her head.

‘If I meet his gaze, I will get lost in those eyes and I might end up losing control.’

Her hands were trembling a lot as she started buttoning his cream shirt from the bottom. And as her gaze travelled from his bare stomach, and then chest and up his collarbones, she found her heart pounding so loudly, it was the only sound she could hear. She felt like she could not stand it.

“At this rate, I will miss my morning meal,” she heard him mutter and that broke through her panic. She tried to recollect herself and focus solely on her task at hand. More than him, she wished to finish this as soon as possible. She chided herself for getting distracted and impatiently reached out her hand.

‘I can do it! I can do it! I must do it!’

Contrary to her forceful thoughts, her actions were careful, as if she was handling something fragile. She cautiously held the sides of his shirt, buttoning with such care that not one of her fingers grazed his skin. She didn’t know why she was acting this way, but intuition was telling her she would regret it if she touched him.