Jessamine
When I return to my chambers, Moira is waiting for me, her face fixed in a sneer as Az monitors her every movement with a stoic stare. Her blue eyes rake over my figure, noting the blood, but she says nothing. I press past her, walking further into my room. "What do you want?" I demand, pulling my dresser open.
"I must speak with you." A soft exhale. "In private."
I hold out a bunch of dresses I've never worn before, searching through for something appropriate to wear to the meeting with Kier and the council, after I wash off the blood on me. "You can speak freely in front of Az. I trust him."
"I don't," she snaps.
"I don't trust you either, not as far as I can throw you," I mutter, taking out another dress. Too bright. A contrast from how chaotic and angry I feel. That had gone terribly. Maybe I should have just killed her and hidden the body--
"Are you sleeping with Alpha Kier?"
I freeze. I've been putting it off for as long as I can. Last night. I haven't let myself think about it. Waking up beside him, covered in his sweat and mine, his arm around my waist and my face pressed against his chest, his nose in my hair as he breathed deeply and his features unguarded, peaceful...it had been too much to handle.
I ran from him, and whatever it meant, his touch and kisses haunting me and his words singeing me. I'd spent the hours before dawn in the tub, washing his scent off me, over and over again, dunking oils over my hair, scrubbing my skin raw, pouring fragrances over my dress, and dumping my old clothes in the hearth.
He was delirious, and though I had some wine before sneaking into his room, I was very, very sober. I should have pushed him away. I really should have. But my mental walls were down and he was awake for the first time in days and...I was consumed by so much emotion and...I fucked up.
And I didn't have a single care in the world as I did. I didn't... couldn't think of anyone or anything else when he kissed me. I couldn't think of one reason why I should've stopped him. It had been my undoing.
Ignoring and acting like it never happened made it easier. It made the wanting less aggressive. It made stifling my constantly, painful state of arousal bearable. It made it easier to...pretend that nothing changed, even if everything has.
And now, turning very slowly and meeting Moira's stark gaze, I feel so damned guilty. Like I've taken something that isn't mine.
Are you sleeping with Alpha Kier?
I blink hard, shaking off last night, and I carefully iron my expression back into icy disdain. "I'm sorry?" I hope my voice sounds as steely as I intend for it to. I wonder if she can see through the material I wear, to my collarbone and the bruises from Kier's lovebites scattered across my skin.
I wonder if he's touched her like that too. I feel rage and the most deranged form of possessiveness at the thought of him touching someone else.
Az chokes on a cough. "I'll be outside."
"Frankly, I wouldn't put it past you," she says again once we're alone. "You're engaged, are you not? Do you not understand boundaries? Does your chosen groom not care that his bride's practically throwing herself at a mated male who has no interest in her? Are you trying to ruin him? Have you not done enough?"
Darrock. I hadn't thought once about him as I parted my legs for Kier and let him deflower me. I haven't opened any of his letters. Two more arrived in the last three days. I shoved them in the nightstand's drawer and I haven't worked up the courage to read them. I don't think I deserve to, not after last night.
But I can only be held accountable by him. Not the woman standing before me. I don't care who she is to him, I don't owe her shit. She's wearing MY crest, scolding me about a man that's MY mate. Ever seen a bigger situation of being delusional?
I lift my chin. "Jealousy is a sour stench on you, Moira. Don't wear it so brazenly, else I just might feel sorry for you."
"Jealous?" she laughs, a cold humourless sound that chills the room. "Jealous of you? A mewling kitten content with my scraps while I feast by Kier's table, by his side? I think not."
"Scraps, you say," I laugh, my fingers digging into my palm. "But you're begging for it, crawling for even the tiniest bit of it. You really must be starved of his affection if you're desperate enough to come here to plead." My lips curl in distaste. "How dull. You used to be more fun. Whatever happened to shooting arrows at me, yanking my hair, scalding my throat? Marriage stole your sense of humour and brutality?"
Her voice rises, a feral growl tearing through every illusion of civility. "Listen here, you crazy bitch, I bled for him, understand? I earned this," Moira hisses, drawing closer. "I clawed my way through blood, sacrificed my soul and honour to get here. I will not hesitate to finish what I started if you come between Kier and I."
I roll my eyes. "Right. I'm so fucking frightened." My fingers reach up my collar and I tug down hard. Blue eyes flare as the bites on my skin come to light. I don't even need to say a word. I already won. I told you. I can be very, very petty when I want to. "If I can survive these from Kier, I can surely take whatever shit you think you can do to me. There's more under my dress if you'd like to take a look."
She lunges for me, faster than I expect, snarling, and her fist cracks across my cheek, snapping my head left. My eyes water and my skin stings painfully. "You drugged him. You must have done something to him! Kier would...Kier would never!" she screeches, coming at me with swift punches that land everywhere and nowhere. I hold back, because if I don't, I'll kill her. Az wouldn't like that very much. I let her hits land. She's mad, so they're sloppy, none precise.
Maybe I deserve it, but I don't regret being the bitch she says I am. Again, what has being nice ever done for me?
I hear the door creaks and she is pulled off me, Az's arm banding around her waist. She thrashes, hitting and slapping at his hands. "Let me go!"
"Leave her," I tell Az, hugging my arms around myself. He hesitates, but he sets her on her feet gently, almost reverently. She twists, slapping him twice. "Don't fucking put your filthy hands on me, pig."
His jaw clenches, but he nods and steps back, still within reach.
When she turns to me again, the scent of her rage clings to the room like a shroud and her eyes hold a fire that match mine. "You may be his mate, but I claimed him as mine, by the blood I spilled, the battles I fought. You're his plaything. Warm his bed all you want, but you'll never walk by his side. You're not the one he chose. You're not the one he crowned. Be his lover by night, I'll be his queen. And if at any point you try to steal that too from me, remember that there's an arrow with your name on it, Jessamine Everhart."
She storms out, and Az follows, leaving me completely alone.
Something wet drops on my hand and I peer down at the single tear. I laugh at it as I wipe my eye and head to my dresser, abandoning the beautifully crafted gowns and pulling out my leathers.
Two death threats in one day. I must be doing something right.