Jessamine
"Out," the King says in one silent breath, and I've never seen a hall empty out so fast. Only Darrock and I remain in the next minute and I stop laughing.
With terrifying grace, the king rises from his throne, and in a heartbeat, he is leaning over Darrock, crushing his hand around his windpipe. "Fool," he spits with distaste and I hear the wall behind me explode as he throws Darrock into it.
Pale blue eyes lock onto mine and holds. He moves with that eerie speed again and the next second, he crouched low in front of me, his fingers brushing my cheeks gently as he tilts my head left, right, up, down—I jerk back, my heart thundering in my chest. There’s something horribly wrong here. He’s looking at me like a father would his child after they’ve spent the better part of their day playing in the wild.
He’s checking for injuries. He’s touching me like he knows me and his hands are so damn familiar.
Movement behind me seems to jar him, and his feet hits the tile several feet away from me. How can anyone move that fast? Heavy steps echo as he walks back to his throne and sits. His ankle crosses over his knee and he leans back, assuming a pose of boredom and nonchalance that is near perfect.
Moonlight spills in, enhanced by the chandelier that captures its light and multiplies it, and my attention is lured up, to the roof. My breath seizes. The moon is a stunning blue, it’s ethereal light cascading like a sapphire veil over the glass roof of the castle. It’s beautiful and something in me twists with excitement. I suddenly want to run and feel that light on my skin. The light flares and my lips part in pleasant surprise, fingers twitching to reach that light.
My skin feels too hot and I want—need to get out of my clothes and…run.
I shiver, my teeth clattering. There’s something wrong…with the moon and me. I feel ill.
“Look away from it.”
The King’s order cuts through my thoughts and I am startled to find my fingers inching towards the flickering light reflection. I force them down and rise on shaky knees. “Your name, what is it?”
Ancient eyes stare at me from a face that gave no age or feeling. “Hunter.”
Something sharp burrows deeply into my heart, wrenching it. My feet take me one step forward. “Nathan Hunter?”
Silver flashes in those eyes and disappear immediately. “Emberfall.”
“I’m sorry?”
“That’s where I met your mother. She couldn’t disclose her involvement with me. Or my name. So she called me Nathan whenever we were in public.”
I stare back at Darrock who seems to be passed out on the floor. The impact of the crash must have knocked him out. Remind me never to get on the King’s bad side. I glance back at the throne. “He wasn’t lying? I’m your…” I spit out the word, swallowing the lump of bitterness and rage rising to my throat; choking me. “Daughter. You are Nathan Hunter, my father. I am…I am heir to that hideous throne you sit upon. I am not a peasant. You are Alpha King, which means I have Alpha blood in my veins. Mother…My mother lied when she said you were dead.”
His eyes hold mine captive and I feel a gentle prod against the walls of my mind. It is as though he’s trying to read into my thoughts. My lips move but his face somehow remain stoic. “Correct.”
Various emotions and thoughts bombard me at once. Questions form and die. The need to seek answers rise and plummets, replaced by a more pressing need. I reach down and pull off my heels. “I’m hungry.”
Silence. “You have no questions?”
Holding my shoes in my hands, I press the back of my feet against the cold floor. “I think better when I’m not tired and hungry.” I make a point not to stare at his face. I’m scared that if I do, the building rage will leak from its cage. I’ll sort through my emotions, cry if I need to, but I’m not doing that in front of a stranger. “Do I get a big room with fluffy pillows too?”
I’m not looking, but I know he is staring at me like I have four heads.
His eyes jerk to the door. "Nymeria."
The huge door creaks and a blonde walks in. I turn, tilting my head at the woman who looks so much like him. She has his eyes and his hair, and both look so damn familiar. I'm surprised it takes me too long to notice. When her eyes drift to mine and hate shines in them, it suddenly clicks. The rogue woman! She looks so different when she's clean and the grease is out of her hair.
Her gaze snaps forward and her shoulders curve forward in utter submission. "Father."
Father? Goddess, I have so many questions. Too many. It’s becoming hard to stay calm. If someone had told me the King of Dawn was my father, I’d have begun to search the skies for flying pigs. My fingers are still biting into my skin as I pinch myself. I could still be in the forest with Farrow, sleeping. Or maybe one of Raya’s maids is currently drowning me in that bathtub.
"Take Jasmine to the second wing and assign maids to attend her needs.”
The woman, Nymeria, stiffens. “The second wing is mine and Darrock’s after the engagement. You had it redecorated according to my taste. I’m not yielding it to a…” her voice trails off, only to sharpen in a more vicious tone. “To her.”
Here we go again. I count one to ten in my head. I do it again.
“I changed my mind.” He leans forward and his all-encompassing aura brushes against me warmly. I suppose it is the opposite for his daughter because all color drains from her face as he murmurs, “Consider this punishment for your lies. Call in the minstrel on your way out, and Elder Aedion.”
“But Father—”
He waves her off, but the woman is persistent. “This is how it’ll be then? Living in her shadow isn’t enough? You’ve welcomed her into our home, disregarding mother’s feelings. Mine. What about me? Tonight is my engagement and you’ve made it about her! What next? We live with the daughter of a traitor and treat her like family? Your illegitimate, whoring child?”
The King's eyes meets his daughter's gaze with steely resolve. "Choose your words wisely, Nymeria. My patience wanes." His regal head angles towards the door and I walk away, leaving the arguing pair behind.
The hallways are packed with guests who are talking about the king’s bastard child. The daughter of the woman who committed treason. I have no idea what the hell they are talking about and I’m slowly slipping into a place of silent panic. The King is my father. My mother lied to me. About everything.
I don’t know what to think or do. Shoving it all into a box isn’t helping me. It’s suffocating me. I can’t…breathe. My fingers grasp the choker around my neck and I rip it off, tossing it on the ground beside my foot. The courtiers move away, like I have dropped a plague.
I reach into my hair next, pulling out the pins and clips, throwing them all away. It doesn’t help. Nothing fucking helps. My insides are being eviscerated, my heart shattering. I couldn’t care less for the title, or who he was. They called my mother a traitor. There had been a bounty on her head the entire time, and I knew she wasn’t a saint. But she’d raised me, loved me in her own deranged way. I loved her too. I took it all. The scarring of the whips on my lower back are proof of my loyalty. I hated the whips but I took the pain.
And she had looked me in the eye and lied to me. She isn’t even here to bear the brunt of my rage.
The King owed me an explanation. An apology. He knew about me all along. There had been no surprise in his eyes. He knew precisely where I was and he didn’t come for me.
I feel like I’ve fallen off a cliff and awoken in a different world and time. A time and place where I don’t know or understand who I am.
There’s a tightness in my bone, a tension in my muscles that need to be exerted and I don’t know how. I stare left and right, noting the way they look at me. It’s Neredia all over again, only this time, I don’t give two fucks. They aren’t my people. Hell, do I even have people anywhere?
I swerve down a different path and it is blissfully empty. Dropping my shoes, I double over, holding myself upright with a hand to the wall. One. Two. Deep breaths. Even now, all I can remember are her teachings. You do not break. You do not yield.
Fucking liar. Everyone lies to me. Everyone hates me.
“Two more turns, keep to the left.”
My back snaps straight and I force an empty mask into place. Nymeria’s eyes burn bright as she glares at me, and I see the wetness under her eyes. “That’s where my room is?”
She shakes her head, blonde curls bouncing left and right. “Why are you even here? Having one king wrapped around your finger isn’t enough?”
“You lied to me,” I whisper. “You knew who I was the moment you saw me. I saved your life, against my better judgement. I almost died, because of you, and the one thing I asked of you, you lied about."
"It must run in the blood. Your mother's side, definitely. Blaming others for your own foolishness," she hisses, her voice laced with venom. She advances and the sharp edge of her claws press against my throat. Pale eyes rove my face and an ugly sneer mars her face. "You'd have a better chance at survival in your little, sheltered world. Dawn is no place for you."
I lean into the sharpness and I feel it dig into my throat. Warmth trickles down my neck and I barely feel the pain past the sizzling under my skin. "You don't scare me, pup."
Fire flares in her eyes and I see her consider it. Consider ripping the flesh off my neck. But there's fear in her gaze as she lowers her hand and stalks off.