Jessamine
The ride to Aldenwood is a two-day journey. Twelve hours in and I’m already miserable.
Between the scorching sun beating down on me, the saddle bruising my thighs and Kier’s gaze digging into my back, I can’t tell which is the main cause of my abject misery. I forge ahead, taking a swig from my water skin, and I wipe the sweat from my neck, panting.
I nearly fled from the castle in the early hours of this morning. Very nearly. But I decided I would see this to the end, even if Kier no longer has respect or interest in me because of my mother’s roots. I’ve never been one to leave things half way done. I am in no mood to explain that my mother’s choices DO NOT define who I am, and if he rejects me one more because of this, I swear the Moon and Sun Goddess that I will kill him in his sleep.
Alright, maybe that’s a little too extreme. I could totally pull a Moira. Intoxicate his drink, have sex with him in that state and have his children. That’s a plan I would totally pull off if I was indeed as mad as they say I am. Which, of course, I am not. Right?
I’m beginning to regret my decision though. Alpha Kier and his mother are riding behind me, chatting casually like nothing happened last night. It makes me wonder what else was said in that study. Oh, and Moira is riding with him today, like she belongs by his side, while I’m stuck, sandwiched between a brooding Beta and an injured Gamma. It feels like in a span of hours, I’ve gone back to square one and I don’t think my mother prepared me for this.
Failure.
Goddess, I hate today.
“When do we stop to camp?” I ask Beta Randale since Lloyd is half asleep on his horse. The Beta’s eyes jerk to me and drop down to where I sit askew on the saddle. He shoots me a funny look before glancing ahead again.
“You could’ve taken a carriage, you know.”
“Well, I can’t afford one.”
“Could’ve asked Kier.”
“I would have, if he was talking to me,” I snap. I tried talking to him in the stables this morning and got brushed off like I didn’t exist. I will not be putting myself in such embarrassing situations again. If he doesn’t want to talk, it’s fine. I won’t hang around him like a leech, begging for his attention. I didn’t even do anything wrong.
Beta Randale’s eyes shift to me, and I can swear they are mocking me. “Is the garden of your love weathering a sudden storm? Has the fox grown weary of hunting the wolf?"
I blush furiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kicking the side of the horse to get it to move ahead so I can avoid Beta Randale’s mocking eyes, I earn myself a high-pitched whine and a sudden lurch.
My world tilts on its axis and I find myself unceremoniously flung from the back of the horse. I swear, today isn’t my day.
Time seems to stretch, the sound of beating hooves and gasps filling the air as gravity takes a hold of me, pulling me into the unforgiving ground. Dust rises and I think I’ve got some of it in my eyes and mouth. I try moving but my back hurts too much. So does my left foot. I think I landed on it.
I remain lying and expelling deep breaths, refusing to open my eyes and see them laughing at me. I refuse to be embarrassed.
Stupid horse.
Heavy boots thud in my direction, stopping a few inches shy from my face. “Get up.”
I crack an eye open, and I shut it. Oh, he’s talking to me now?
“Jessamine, get off the damn floor,” Alpha Kier growls and I open my eyes only to glare into his. I am, however, blissfully distracted by how good he looks from this angle; how his hair looks like a flaming halo in the sun and how stunning the contours of his face look as he stares down at me intently. He crosses his arms against his chest and his muscles bunch deliciously. Gods, he looks so good, I could forget all about my annoyance and pounce on him if he gives me a hand.
He leaves my peripheral and I yelp when I feel hands around my ankle. “You dislocated it.”
I kick his hands off my ankle with my good leg. “Get off me!”
A colored brow arches. “I am hardly on you.”
My cheeks flame and I pin him with a glare as I straighten and try to pull myself away from him. Pain sears up my foot and a sharp breath escapes me. “Leave me alone,” I warn breathily.
He ignores me and grabs my ankle, pulling off my boots. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re blocking the path forward, and we need to get off this route before nightfall or we’ll be vulnerable to the elements and rogues.” His fingers adeptly massage the area around my ankle and he raises his gaze to mine. “I’ll need to put it back in place. You might want to bite down on something.”
I shoot him a cocky look. “I can take the pain.”
Someone snickers behind me and I don’t need to look to know its Moira. I track the movements his hands make, flinching at the slightest touch. My heart keeps hammering in my chest, and I try to calm it. I can take it. It can’t be worse than the whip—
Pain, an all-encompassing inferno, claws at my senses as he sets the bone. A cry tears from my lips, the world around swirling into a blurry dance of pure agony. The edges of my consciousness frays and blessed relief reach for me from a darkness beyond. I welcome it.
***************
I turn, tangling in…sheets. A bed, perhaps? No, the surface is too coarse, and the fabric beneath my head carries a scent of...
“Sometimes I forget how fragile you are,” a deep voice says as I rouse from sleep. I stiffen, eyes flying open, and I jolt when I see Kier seated on a wooden stool, watching me. I sit up straighter, looking around me, confused. I’m in a tent, and from the darkness creeping into the space, nearly overshadowing the lit candles, night has fallen.
I…passed out?
My gaze flicks to my ankle and it is wrapped up snugly with splints. Embarrassed by my exceptional ability to take pain, I avoid his gaze. The scent of food teases my nose and my mouth waters. Globes of plump red and green grapes, hard cheese, milk, cured meat and other delicacies adorns the plates. My stomach growls, violently, and I swallow focusing my gaze on the flickering candle. “Are we sharing a tent tonight?”
"No. Randale thought it best to keep you here until you awoke, rather than risk having you stabbed in your sleep by the others."
I meet his gaze. “It was Randale’s idea to bring me to your tent? Not yours?”
His eyes are as cold as ice, like they had been the first time we spoke. A dagger is plunged into my heart at the sight of unfamiliarity in them. I have no idea what to do or say to get the warmth I’d earned in the past couple of weeks, and somehow, I know pleading or letting my heart speak for me will get me nowhere. I can’t be vulnerable in front of him. I can’t let him know it affects me so bad. I can’t plead with him to hear me out without sounding desperate.
“The tent is on the east end of the camp. Head there when you’re done washing up,” he says icily, nodding toward the bathing cauldron with billowing steam. “Take the bedroll with you. It reeks of you.”
I blink. “I…reek?”
He offers no response. Kier stands, turning away and before he can slip out, I ask, unable to stop myself. “Is there a problem? Why are you acting this way with me? Did I do something wrong? Is this about defending Lloyd?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
He reaches for the flaps and I stand, swallowing the growing despair and anger. “I was outside your study last night. This is about my mother, isn’t it?”
When he doesn’t respond, I press on, blinking back the burning sensation in my eyes. “Do you now find me repulsive? I’m Jessamine. I’m..I’m me. Not Madeline.”
“An apple doesn’t fall far from its tree,” he responds without missing a beat.
“That’s not fair,” I retort, voice breaking. “I’d never judge you by your father’s actions.”
He turns a little, and in his eyes, there’s a chasm. Vast and depthless. “You wouldn’t dare. I never gave you the leeway to do so. Take my father’s name and I’ll snap your fragile neck.” Ruthless. Hateful. It’s all too sudden for me to process and accept. There’s no rule in my books to handle this, and even if there was, I doubt I’d recall it over the raging in my mind.
Furious, I put my aching foot in front of the other, the adrenaline drowning out the pain. I don’t stop walking until I am staring up into his eyes. “You’re a spineless coward. Perhaps all of this, all that I’ve done will amount to nothing because there’s no way in Neredia, or the entire world that I’d fight over a man who wants me one moment and hates me the next because of situations that are way out of my control.”
He takes one step towards me and halts, his breaths switching from hard bursts to controlled. “Get. Out.”
I chuckle bitterly. “Go on and toss me right out. I dare you to lay a finger on me.”
A muscle works in his jaw, and his eyes drops to my mouth for a split second before he tears his gaze away. Heat pours from him, warming me to my very core, and I hate that I lean in, way more than I intend to, pressing my chest flush against his. He tracks the movement, and his eyes darken. “Did she teach you this as well? Whoring yourself to me to break through my defenses? Will you kill me once I make you Luna or will you destroy my pack from within and deliver us into the hands of our enemies?”
Anger burns brightly, filling my veins with strength and my fist connects with his cheeks before I can even think. Blood drips from his cut lip, and his nostrils flare as I bare my teeth at him. “You will never call me a whore, or insinuate that I am that type of woman. You will never again insult my mother. And you most certainly will never use the private things I told you about myself to insult me. You want to treat me like a delinquent? Fine, but DO NOT expect me to take that behavior from you. You will afford me the respect you so generously bestow upon the women you in those taverns you frequent or I will break every godsdamned bone in your gorgeous body with a sledgehammer, should I feel inclined.”
He snarls, doing nothing to hide his anger anymore and a deep growl erupts from my lips. Gold flashes in his eyes and he grabs my shoulder and hurls me out the tent without another word.
The guards and onlookers watch me, curiosity flashing in their gazes.
The pain in my foot pulses as I force myself to stand and walk over to the flaps, prying them open. I duck in time to avoid a plate hitting me square in the head. He swivels abruptly, clutching the bedroll in his hands and he throws that at me too. “Get the fuck out of my tent, witch.”
“No,” I say, limping over to the heated cauldron and I don’t bother taking off my clothes before slipping into the water. “You want to throw a childish tantrum? Do it somewhere else. I’m taking my bath and need privacy.”
“Privacy, my bloody foot!” he yells, storming over to me. He grips the cauldrons edge and stares at me with murder in his eyes. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t—”
I close my eyes and moan as the warmth seeps through my bones. “Same old, same old. You’re not going to kill me or snap my neck or banish me because you’re falling in love with me and you’re being an idiot letting your mother come in between us. But that’s fine. Men are simpering fools, after all, needing a woman to think and do literally everything for them. I’m not surprised.”
The cauldron cracks. “You can have the bloody tent. You’ll need it after I banish you from the pack.”
I yawn and turn my head left, dismissing him. I practically feel his hard breaths bearing down on my neck, but I don’t move a muscle or let my fear show. Frankly, I’m too tired and angry to even feel fear. He can go to hell for all I care.
His heavy boots thud against the ground as he storms out, nearly tearing down the tent in his wake.