Mated To The Alpha King (Raven and Ethan) novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Alpha Ethan’s POV

I walked out of the room, her words still echoing in my head.

“You don’t feel anything.”

What did she mean by that? What was I supposed to feel?

Anger? Guilt? Regret?

I couldn’t quite place the emotions tangled up inside me, especially the ones I usually felt around her. Confusion clawed at my chest, and something else –something deeper. Even when she was in a coma, I felt her presence. The bond tugged at me like a persistent echo I couldn’t silence. And now… now that she was awake and speaking, now that her voice–fragile and filled with pain–pierced through me, it only made things worse.

I got into the car and slammed the door shut. The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror, concern written all over his face.

“Home,” I ordered gruffly. “Don’t stop anywhere.”

He nodded, started the engine, and the car pulled away from the hospital curb. I leaned back, shutting my eyes, trying to silence the storm in my head. But I couldn’t. Her voice kept replaying like a haunting melody–soft, broken, disappointed.

“You don’t feel anything…”

I do. I just don’t know what it is.

The ride felt longer than usual. My mind ran in circles, guilt wrestling with denial, and something else–yearning, maybe? I didn’t want to admit it, but it was there, like a thread connecting us, no matter how hard I tried to sever it.

We arrived at the pack house, and I stepped out, my body heavy with exhaustion that had nothing to do with lack of sleep. The guards nodded as i passed, but I didn’t acknowledge them. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk or pleasantries.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The scent hit me first–rosemary, garlic, something savory and warm. I paused, frowning. The house was quiet, but the lights in the kitchen were on. I could hear soft clattering, pots and pans moving, a faint hum of a familiar tune.

Olivia.

My mate.

She was humming the song she always did when she cooked, and that was during the first year of us living together.

I walked toward the kitchen, each step heavier than the last. When I entered, there she was, her back to me, wearing one of my shirts over her leggings. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, and she was carefully plating dinner–steak, mashed potatoes, vegetables, all arranged like a meal from a five–star

restaurant.

She turned when she heard my footsteps.

“You’re home early,” she said, her voice soft, almost cheerful.

Unlike her usual self, and I was surprised she was actually cooking.

I nodded but didn’t speak. She offered me a warm smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and gestured to the dining table.

“I made your favorite. Thought you might need a good meal today.”

10:53 Thu, 17 Jul G @j

Chapter 11

She was acting… unusually sweet. Almost like nothing had happened. Like we hadn’t just had an emotionally draining day.

“Thanks,” I murmured, not sure what else t

to say.

I sat down. She placed the plate in front of me, then sat across from me with her own. She hadn’t gone all out just for me–she made enough for the both of us. It was something she rarely did over the past years. We had grown distant. Even as mates, we felt… off. Like two people playing roles we no longer understood.

I picked up my fork, but the food didn’t taste like anything. My mind was still back at the hospital. Still in that room. I’m still watching her eyes fill with

hurt.

Olivia watched me carefully, setting her fork down after t

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

I swallowed hard, forced a nod. “Just tired.”

just a few bites. Her eyes studied me, sharp yet gentle.

She tilted her head, expression unreadable. “I’m sure it’s more than that.”

I said nothing. My fingers tightened around the fork..

“I know you went to see her,” Olivia said suddenly, her voice quiet but calm.

My eyes met hers sharply. “How do you-”

“I called the office,” she interrupted. “They said you left before the second meeting. Then I called your driver. He didn’t lie.”

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. There was no use pretending.

“She’s awake,” I said simply.

And I just went there to see her.

Olivia’s mouth parted slightly, but she didn’t look surprised. She just nodded, absorbing the information.

“That’s good, right?” she said after a pause. “You’ve been visiting her every week. Even while she was unconscious.”

I flinched. The words hit harder than I expected.

Olivia smiled sadly. And not stupid, Ethan. I could see the way you weren’t yourself while she was in a coma.

“It’s not like that,” I said quickly, defensively.

It’s just that I felt sorry for her–for coming in and helping me during the battle–and 1 felt I needed to repay her, I told her, avoiding her gaze.

Olivia’s smile faded, and she looked away, her jaw tightening.

“You feel sorry for her,” she repeated quietly, almost to herself.

I watched her, noting the way her hands clenched in her lap. Something was off–more than usual. She wasn’t just up hurt.

e was angry. Maybe even

“I was thinking,” I said, trying to steer the conversation to something practical, “since she doesn’t have anywhere to go, and she’s… rough around the edges, maybe I could make her your personal maid. You’d be able to keep an eye on her, help guide her, maybe give her some stability.”

Olivia’s eyes snapped up to mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw flicker through them.

“My personal maid?” she asked slowly, her voice low.

Chapter 11

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