Kier
"I saw the marks on her skin," Moira says, biting on her quivering lip. "Tell me you didn't mean to. Tell me it was a mistake. Tell me..." She sniffles, clutching my cheeks. "Tell me she forced herself on you. I'll let it go."
Prying her hands off my face is an effort. Responding takes even more. "I'm sorry. I really don't want to hurt you."
Her eyes are hateful, the weight of it tensing my muscles. "I won't allow it. I forbid you from seeing her, touching her, fucking her. How can you not see what she's doing? She's trying to ruin you. Us. I've worked hard to get here, Kier, and even harder to gain acceptance after the shit she pulled during the duel. You CANNOT replace me with her."
I stiffen at the push in her voice. At the familiar tone. My brows furrow at the tap on my subconscious, the gentle prodding that turns vicious in the next second. I cock my head at Moira, studying her eyes that glow with a hint of gold. "Did my mother teach you to do that?"
She blinks, her lips parting. "What?"
I inch one step forward and she staggers two steps back. "Very recently, I found something oddly interesting. That there are indeed ways to compel Alphas as strong as I am into doing your bidding." She blanches. "Subtlety, is it not? During arguments, fights, sex, grief, pain, our mental walls are down. Try regular compulsions and it'll rebuff, but try tricking the mind. Make it sound like a request. Make us believe we're indeed granting you a wish, where as it you who pushes us into making that decision. Subtle manipulations."
"That's not--"
I raise a hand and her lips clamp shut. "Do you know why I do not indulge the title of royalty?"
"You do not want to be like your father," she whispers, and I laugh softly, shaking my head.
"That's only part of it." Reaching for Zephyr is easy. Letting my control of him slip is even easier. Moira suddenly gasps, a bead of sweat breaking on her forehead as she stumbles another step back. I feel my aura expand. I let it grow, suffocate the study and lurch beyond the expanse of it. "It is to decieve. I quite like people regarding me a mere wisp of a man. Do you hear what they call me? The boy-king. The man too afraid to claim his own title. Too afraid of going beserk."
I point a finger at her and hook it once. "Come here, wife."
Her eyes go round, glazing over for a second, and when she walks to me, she doesn't even realize she's doing it. When she does, she begins to tremble, her body fighting the command. She reaches where I stand, a whimper escaping her lips. A tear rolls down her cheek and I reach forward, wiping it.
She shivers, the cloying smell of fear overpowering hers of roses. Raising her chin with my finger, her eyes fix on mine, and I smile. "The thing is, I'm never not in control. The things I do, the decisions I make, are all to that effect. It's easier to get people to let their guard down around a man they do not fear. It helps me properly decipher. Understand. Why plot to dethrone a king that can easily be controlled? A puppet?"
"I--" Moira stammers, tears welling in her eyes. "I--I don't consider you a puppet--"
"No?" I ask, my fingers drifting up her jaw and I clench hard. "Why then, did you choose to become my Luna? You turned down a proposal from the West Pack, knowing fully well that joining your father's pack and theirs would produce one stronger than mine. But that only meant living in the shadow of your father. Doing the bidding of your husband. That isn't what you wanted." I pause, leaning in further, until my nose tickles her skin. Soft. Warm. Lush. Repulsive.
Zephyr growls in distaste.
She sobs, digging her nails into my arm to get my hand off, and I laugh at that. "What words did mother whisper in your ears during the selection? Get through the damned selection, become my queen and control everything else? Did she tell you Kier is a fool, much like his father?"
Moira struggles against my hold, but I pin her in place. Her fear is intoxicating. The truth is in her gaze, glaringly obvious. It doesn't hurt anymore. It doesn't surprise me anymore, their betrayal. "I've lived my life following the council of my mother, the elders, the alphas, my father's orders, never taking what I wanted. Never taking anything, even if it was offered. I have hurt, ached, suffered, and I did all of that, thinking I was alone. I thought I wept and grieved alone. The one person who has seen and witnessed me at my worst, is the only one I truly fear, because only she has the power to doom me." I stroke Moira's cheek dotingly. "It is why I know you do not love me, and it is why it can never be you."
"You can't know that," Moira sobs, her eyelashes wet with tears. "You've never given me a chance. Why hold her in such high esteem? What makes her different? Like her, I fought, and I won--"
"All you did was beat down a harmless woman, again and again. You enjoyed torturing her. You think I'm blind to everything? The lake where you tried to drown her with the rest? The hunt? Burning her throat and humiliating her? Trying to kill her? You did none of that for me. You did it to sate your hunger for power, Moira. I'm no fool, and I'm done being treated like one."
A long moment passes, and I see her reach for something to use as an ammunition against me, anything to prevent her loss, and she finds it rather quickly. "So, that excuses the fact that you were unfaithful to me? You have betrayed our union and your oath to me. Once I tell my father about this--"
My fingers fall from her chin and I nod solemnly, retracting my aura. "I have...cheated you, and there are no words I could offer to make it alright." I hold her gaze, and though I hate the words that tumble from my mouth next, I know I must say them. "But it will happen yet again, and I have no plans on putting an end to my affair with Jessamine. It would do us good if we...stopped this."
Her reaction is instant. Her nails dig into my skin as she hits me, wailing and screaming. I let her. I deserve it. I could go on with this charade for as long as everyone wants me to, but I'm so fucking tired of doing what they want. I wonder, for once, if it could really be that easy. To take what I want, without a single care in the world for the consequences that might follow.
When she's exhausted her strength hitting, slapping, snarling, and cutting into my skin, she falls to my feet, sobbing and hiccuping, her dress pooling around her gracefully. She hugs my thigh. "Kier, please. Please. Please. Please, don't do this. You can't...you can't." A broken sob. "She's engaged. You're all I have. Father won't take me back. Please, Kier. Please. We can...we can try again. I'm sorry. I'll try to be more like her--"
"Don't," I say, my voice unexpectedly tender, as I peer down into pleading eyes. I drop into a low crouch, taking her smaller hands in mine. "This is not your fault. This isn't a competition and you shouldn't have to change for anyone. You shouldn't have to manipulate or coerce love from anyone. You deserve someone who sets your soul on fire, loves you, fiercely, exclusively, and I can't be that person because Jessamine owns me."
Her arms are suddenly around my neck, her nose buried in my shirt. My fingers twitch by my side to pull her off, but I don't. I let her cry for as long as she wants to.
"Give me until the war is over," she says after a while, breaking the uncomfortable silence and pulling away from me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she doesn't quite meet my gaze as she gathers herself. "I'll break it to father then."
I rise, slipping my hands in my pocket to hide the slight tremble. It is not fear I feel. It is...cold feet. Anxiety. I know Moira. She will never let it go, not so easily. But I dare to hope that she does. I dare to hope that it gets easier from here, to do the things I want, be Jessamine's man. I dare to hope she'll have me and discard of that useless ring on her finger. I dare to hope I never have to worry about Darrock anymore.
Moira's is speaking, but my mind has begun to trail off, and I wonder; how does a married man woo an engaged woman?
Fuck. I miss Lloyd. He'd know what to do.