Jessamine
"No," I sob, digging at the dirt, tearing at the roots. "Gods, no."
Bile rises in my throat and my stomach heaves, emptying into the grass stained with blood. Her blood. I should've known. I wipe the side of my mouth and the stench of blood and puke gags me again. Splatters stain my skin, up my arms. I wipe them. I scratch them off, sobbing. My nails rake at my skin, again and again. There's only blood.
And there's her. My broken heels dig into the stained snow as I scramble back, away from the bodies. My body trembles and I hug my arms around my chest. Rocking back and forth.
I killed them. I killed her.
Hours Earlier
"And why do I have to follow on this ride of yours?" I ask Kier, trailing behind him the next morning with a growing frown. "You and Moira want to have a honeymoon ride? Great for you both. What has that got to do with me?"
Kier exhales slowly, folding his hands behind him, and the faster I walk to keep up with him, the longer his strides are. His emerald coat flaps against the wind, drawing back and forth from his knees as he walks. "It's not a honeymoon ride, and besides, you did ask to be included in everything. I'm not to refuse you, remember?"
"Well, I don't want to."
He turns. "You must. We're overseeing the evacuations, and the people want to see the princess whose army has come to their aid." He leans into my space, his eyes wide as he scans my face. His nostrils twitch. "Roses?"
I rest back against my heel. "Sorry?"
He sniffs me in and then rears back sharply to sneeze. Twice. "Since when do you smell like roses?"
I smile sheepishly. "You like it?"
"Obviously not."
I flutter my eyelashes prettily. "Good for me." I peer around him when I sight Az's familiar figure heading out to the stables. I'm crafting excuses for why I cannot accompany Kier on his ride with Moira and Randale, but he cuts in smoothly, "You need not worry for your safety with me, Jessamine, and if there is a serious reason as to why you cannot come with, you can tell me. Having you with us will do a great deal for the packs and families." He smiles a little. "A small speech from you would motivate them. Give them hope. Displace their fears. I need you with me today, Jess." He takes my hand and his thumb flicks over my pulse point once. "Please."
Swallowing a growing lump in my throat, I withdraw my hand from his. "That's Moira's job, not mine. I have no business giving hope to people who clamoured for my death, laughed and mocked me at every chance given. You keep mistaking me for a kind person, of which I am not."
"Yet, you saved my life not long ago."
I shrug. "For my benefit alone."
Kier crosses his arms. "I'm not beyond binding you to the horse, Jessamine."
My response is a pointed look that says, "Just try."
Hours later, I'm riding behind Kier and Moira, my wrists bound firmly and Randale has the other end of the rope to ensure I don't run off. I direct a hateful stare at him and he returns my look with one that is much, much worse. I turn to Az, riding solemnly on my left and I glare at him. "You're the worst personal guard anyone could ask for. You're relieved of your duties after this war." It was a bluff, of course, but I'm mad that he actually helped Kier...kidnap me. Brought the ropes and the horse.
Slitted green eyes meet mine, no humor at all in them. "Can't it be sooner? So I don't have to hear you touch yourself at night."
Randale chokes. Kier's head snaps back. My cheeks flame. Moira's horse stumbles. The guards behind us snicker and I want to die right now. Thankfully, no one breathes a word and I tug on the ropes around my wrist, throwing Randale a sidelong glance. "You can cut them loose. I won't run."
He only cuts the ropes when the dense plain of the forest grows sparser, houses, old, decrepit, broken, burned, appeared on either sides of the road. Eyes peer out of windows, haunted, hollow and hungry. The air smells like smoke and grief. A chill that has nothing to do with the winter runs down my spine and I tuck my hands into gloves, gripping the reins to slow my horse. The land here feels...dead. Shriveled up, and maybe that's why it took too long to recognize where we were, until a familiar figure on a black horse breaks through the forming crowd, watching us with disdain.
"Alpha Kier," the man says, black eyes sweeping across our group, and he bows low, only towards Kier. And surprisingly, me. But when his eyes land on Moira, hate darkens them. "You're not welcome here."
Alpha Declan lords over the East Packs, and he's Marion's father. The first woman Moira killed in the Hunt. He never returned to the castle for the meetings after that, and I heard he turned down Kier's and Renae's invitations and summons. There were speculations that losing his daughter made him angry enough to cut of the weapon supplies to the other cities.
Moira bristles on her horse, her black gloves rubbing the horse's hind as she responds icily, "I do understand that the past months have been hard on us all, Alpha Declan, but the Alpha and I are only here to provide support--"
A stone hits the back of her head, startling her out of her talk. And another. And soon, it's raining stones and curses and Az is fighting to decide who to cover between Moira and I. I don't blame him when he chooses her, turning his gaze to the women and snarling loud enough to have them draw back and halt their assault.
I hadn't even noticed Kier flanking me until his featherlight touch grazes a sting on my neck. I blink, touching my neck, and it comes away wet. I didn't even feel it. "Are you alright?" Kier asks, his voice a deadly calm storm that matches the fury in his gaze.
I nod, feeling the small cut healing. Alpha Kier's eyes blaze when he turn to the people, and they have enough sense to quieten and balk from the weight of his stare and aura. He starts to speak, but I clutch his upper arm, whispering, "Don't. It's fine. I'm alright. They're angry and it is unwise to lash out at them from a place of anger as well. Especially now when they've just lost their homes."
He angles his head, considering.
"She's right," Randale says, swatting dust off his clothes. "This is all a mess."
Kier's anger banks and he moves ahead, stopping before Alpha Declan. "I will overlook this display, but do not forget your place. It is my choice to help, but like my father, I could very well turn a blind eye to your suffering." His voice carries well over the crowd, shunning them, instilling fear at the insinuation. The voice of a king. I wince at the harshness in his words, but I know he'd never really do that.
Alpha Declan trembles visibly with indignation, but he bows his head a little. "I apologize, but my words remain." He points at Moira. "She will not set foot in my lands, if she wishes to leave here alive, that is."
As Alpha Declan leads Kier, Randale and I away with the rest of the men, I wonder if Kier somehow knew this would happen. Bringing me here to ride by his side. I steal a glance at him. He seems unruffled, content, maybe even pleased. I look back, and though Moira looks away sharply, I catch the glimpse in her eyes. Hate.
***********
Kier
I lean against my horse, watching her. Small fingers wrap around hers, the children leading her further into the crowd. She may have left her crown behind at the castle, but another one of flowers, woven by the children rests atop her head.
She looks back at me, and dimples cut into her cheeks as she smiles, her eyes squinting and the violet in them near blinding. They seem to beckon me over, to join her. In this place stripped of life, joy, and hope, she is the sun goddess, filling the world with her light, her smile.
Time loses meaning, the world fades, and there's only Jessamine. She crouches, her velvet green gown pooling around her in the snow as she lifts a child, giggling and rubbing her nose against his. Unmindful of the ash and dirt that coats his skin and clothes. He blinks and starts to giggle, playing with her hair, pulling it into his tiny mouth.
The mothers and fathers watch her, and they are even less wary around her than they are with me.
"You keep looking at her like that and everyone's going to know," Randale says, announcing his presence by my side. His dark eyes seem tired, but there's a light in them that wasn't there earlier.
"Know what?"
"That you're both fucking. Don't bother denying it. I saw you two during the meeting."
I say nothing and Randale whistles. "Damn, Kier. You're not denying it!"
"You said I shouldn't."
"Fuck," Randale cusses. "You're going to make her Luna?"
"Yes."
Randale shakes his head, his lips tightening. "She's a freaking princess. The heir to her father's throne. She can't be in both places, here and there. You're going to make her choose? And that's not even the biggest problem you have with this madness. What the fuck are you going to do about Moira? She'll never let you go."
I shrug. "We conversed on the matter. Her response was positive, howbeit..." I search for the right word, but I can't seem to find any to fit. Randale cuts in, preventing me from finishing with a soft laugh.
"Positive? Then someone's definitely going to die. I'd watch my mate closely if I were you. And my wife more closely."
I frown, but I tuck the advice away for later, glancing back towards Jessamine who's lifting a pregnant woman's luggage, smiling deeply, wholly, and fuck if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
***********
Jessamine
I feel lighter than I have in days. Freer. Happier. Perhaps, it was working side by side with Kier to calm the villagers and aid the evacuation in any way we could. I laughed. I truly laughed today, and I realized I haven't really, not in a long time.
I wonder when and where I lost it. This part of me that felt everything and still chose to...wing it, for the lack of better word.
There's a bouquet by my dresser when I return, and as I pluck the note hidden between petals, I prick my finger on something sharp. A thorn. Wincing, I suck the blood on my thumb into my mouth, opening the note with my free hand.
"I settled on this after discarding five, still, I feel nervous. Anxious, like a man confessing his feelings to a woman for the first time." The next line has literally been scratched out aggressively, like he thought better of whatever he wrote. "Do you like star-gazing?" My brow quirks up at that, and I snort when I read the next line. "Alright. You caught me. I just want to spend time with you. Tonight. Meet me by the grove at midnight. I have something to show you."
I try to sleep after a luxurious shower. I toss and toss in bed, my heart pounding, my belly tightening with thoughts I unintentionally entertain. Thoughts that end with Kier and I naked in the snow, under the moonlight. I get too hot, and... the thought of slipping my fingers between my thighs to pleasure myself tonight seems so wrong.
Hating myself, I get off the bed and shrug off my night dress, switching it for something thicker, yet sleazier. He'll see this dress and tear it off. I know this, and I want it. Just for tonight. I might be on heat again. Yes. Let's blame it on that.
As I grab my coat, my eyes snag the drawer filled with letters from Darrock and the stab of guilt has me hesitating. I almost drop the coat and get back in bed. Almost.
But spending the entire day with Kier has me yearnig for more time. More anything. I just want to be where he is, breathing the same air with him. I'm tired of being angry and fighting all the time. Just for tonight, I want to go to bed content. I want to feel more than anxiety and think of more than the war and Darrock and everyone else. I can go back to hating him tomorrow.
I opt for the window again, and luckily, no one by the gates questions me as I slip out, my lips a dark shade of red and my hair unbound, flowing past my shoulders, tumbling down in gorgeous curls. None of that rose fragrance tonight. I hadn't bothered with any.
A wave of cold blasts through the air and I clutch my coat tighter, my heavy breaths a visible cloud. Stargazing when it's freezing so bad? Hopefully, whatever he has to show me is worth freezing my butt off.
Every breath feels like someone's hacking at my lungs, and after a short while of weaving through the woods, my feet and fingers feel oddly numb, a steady ache pulsating from where I'd pricked my finger on the thorn, spreading throughout my body and filling my bones with tiredness.
I yawn, water filling my eyes. My senses feel hazy somehow. My bones tired. The forest is eerily silent, the lack of sound jarring. I'm not even halfway there yet and I'm chilled to my bones, weary from the day's events. This had better be worth it.
Nyx? I think, reaching across the bridge to her mental awareness, eager for any form of conversation to banish the silence. But there's no answer. I can't even feel her, which is odd. Recently, she's been hanging around, a steady presence in my mind, chirping in especially when I don't want or need her to. And now, she's just...absent.
I forge on, quickening my strides. The only sounds that can be heard in the dark forest are those of my shoes breaking branches and crushing leaves. The grove is within my line of vision when I hear the first sound--a hiss--behind me.
I swivel, my gaze darting back and forth, my heart beating a little faster. There's no one. I clutch my hand to my chest, sighing. Of course, there's no one. I'm just being paranoid. I pick up my legs, walking so fast, I could be sprinting, and I catch the faint smell of burning wood close to the groove, smoke coating the air.
Relief tugs at the knots in my belly and I follow the scent, eager to leave the forest behind. Something warm spreads in my chest. Excitement. Anxiety, and I brush the snow off my dress the closer I draw to the fire, ensuring nothing's out of place.
But when I arrive at the fire, it's not Kier sitting by it and poking the wood with a sword. Hazel eyes rise from the flames, meeting mine, and my heart drops like stone as Renae smiles softly. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." She tilts her head in a motion that's so like Kier. "Maybe you shouldn't have."