Jessamine
Kier conveniently forgot to mention that my crazy sister is here too.
I took one step into my new ‘chamber’ and she had run to me, wailing. Apparently, my father got wind of her pregnancy—the tonic didn’t work. Shocker—and she ran away from home to hide from his anger. Queen Tara must be losing her mind.
Well, she isn’t the only one.
I’m going crazy, biting my fingers, walking left and right in my chamber, blatantly ignoring my sister. I’m due for a meeting in a few minutes. Meeting? More like a persecution. Eldris will come to collect me any minute now, and I will be taken to the Great Hall, where I will be surrounded by the council and Alphas who will decide my fate.
I just know I’m going to get the death sentence. It’ll be easy. Nobody wants me here, and from the little I’ve been told, which is close to nothing, there’s a sort of power grab going on. On one hand is Kier and on the other is Moira, being backed by her father and a few other Alphas who feel that Kier is ‘unfit’ to rule by himself. I’m unsure how to use this to my advantage and clear my name.
And then, there’s also Darrock who’s pounding against the door and threatening to break it down if I do not answer. I groan, pulling at my hair. What am I going to tell him? I lost his ring somewhere in the grove. Kier and I have consummated the bond. Kier has marked me and now, I can practically feel Zephyr in my subconscious, caressing my mental walls sensually like they’re the folds between my thighs.
I can’t hear or feel Kier. I know this because I’ve been hurling curses down the bond since he left me in the torture chamber with his cloak as a covering, and trust me, it did NOTHING to stop the men guarding the dungeons from ogling my ass as Eldris led me here.
“You really should respond to that,” Nymeria says, crossing her heels on my bed, and sipping from a glass of orange juice as she reads one of my filthy novels. “I won’t eavesdrop, I promise.”
I glare at her. “Get out. You have your own room—”
She sighs softly, leaning back against my pillows. “I’m pregnant, Jessamine. Treat me nicely. Plus…your bed’s softer than mine. The hideous thing is making my backache worse.”
The door slams against the wall, and we both jump as Darrock storms in and my heart is in a chokehold when those red eyes I hadn’t realized I missed so much land on me. He crosses the distance in quick strides and pulls me into his arms. “Violet,” he breathes against my damp hair, kissing my forehead as his trembling hands roam my back. “Thank fuck.”
I hold him, breathing in his scent deeply, and Nyx growls in displeasure at the proximity. I ignore her, relishing the feeling of having someone here I can trust. Someone I can call my own. I don’t feel so alone anymore and—
He pulls me back, gripping my shoulder, and his eyes are filled with worry and something warm. “Your father called me back from across the seas. Sent me here to ensure you were safe and bring you back home using violence, if necessary.” His lips kick up into a grin. “I got a little impatient and left the army behind. I couldn’t wait to get to you.” Worry darkens his eyes again and he shakes his head, his black tresses that have grown longer since I last saw him frames bounces around his head. “The situation is a tad…difficult, but if I could just get you to the borders, you’ll be safe—”
Nymeria snickers, announcing her presence, and I whirl, trying to tell her to shut her damn mouth, but she’s already blurting, “Try getting her away from the Alpha first. He’s marked her already. He’ll hunt you down.” She giggles when Darrock freezes, his eyes latching onto my neck, like he can see the healing mark underneath my high collar. “Can you not smell him on her? They’re probably fucking.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I promise her in a low, dangerous voice.
She smirks, holding my gaze as she sips her juice and flips onto the next page of the novel in her grasps.
It is an effort to look at Darrock. He peels his hands off me instantly like I have a deadly plague. He turns from me sharply, groaning, and his shoulders tense.
My lips quiver. I don’t…I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. The mark…it wasn’t…I didn’t consent to it…” I let my voice trail off when I realize it sounds like I don’t want it, when that’s not entirely true.
I reach for his shoulder and he flinches. I let my hand fall, but he’s turning, a soft smile creasing his face. He cups my cheeks. “It’s fine.” His eyes fall to my neck again. “It’s nothing. I’ll cover it with mine. With my mark on you, the scar will fade.”
Scar?
“Darrock,” I start, panic spreading through my middle. Sure, I want to return home; get the hell out of here, but the thought of having his teeth in my skin makes me scared. I’m supposed to wed him in a few days, but…I don’t know what I want anymore. “If you could give me some time—”
“No,” he hisses, and his grip on my shoulder tightens. “I let you out of my sight for a few days and you go and fuck him. Have you forgotten everything or do you just lack self-preservation?”
I suck in a sharp breath. “You have no idea what’s happened in the last few days. Don’t judge me like that without even hearing me out—”
“I thought about you, every fucking day. Wrote those stupid letters like an idiot, and waited for your replies on baited breath! You never wrote back! I don’t do romance. I don’t do letters, or love, or flowers. I’m trying, for you! And you go and pick the man who doesn’t even lift a finger when your life is in fucking danger! I’m supposed to hear my cheating bride out after she’s let another man screw her.” He snorts derisively. “I must have given you the impression that I was a fool to be played with.”
Nymeria laughs excitedly, clapping. “Entertaining! You could’ve married me, but no. I wasn’t exciting enough. There you go, enjoy.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Darrock and I yell at her in unison.
She raises her hands in mock surrender in the exact moment Darrock says to me, “We leave for Dawn tonight, and upon our arrival, we will wed.”
I shake his grip off. “You will not force me into doing anything I do not wish to.”
He lips twist into a smile, and his eyes seem redder than usual. “You will take that back after the meeting, when the Alpha turns his back on you again. You will plead with me and ask me to take you home with me. I,” he beats his fists against his chest violently, twice. “Will be here, as usual, cleaning up after you. And him.”
I swallow against the pain in my throat, and tears spring to my eyes at the sight of the anguish written all over his face. It’s in the way he gazes at me with both longing and contempt. The way his fingers twitch to hold me or hit me, I am unsure. The way he walks away from me tightly and rips the door clean off its hinges as he shuts it.
I wipe the stray tear rolling down my cheek and run to the bathroom to cry some more.
*************
Click. Click. My heels echo the frantic beating of my heart as I walk down the rows of seats and descend down the steps that take me to the wide center of the quiet hall. Eyes follow me, curious, hateful, hungry for any form of drama or excitement.
A hand brushes the length of my arm and there seats Az, Mikkel and Camilla, who look as horrible as I do, but they’re in fresh clothes and seem to be faring better than when I last saw them. Kier must have had them released too for this., though, I can’t imagine why.
Az smiles reassuringly and mouths, “Your hair’s a mess. Still got it though,” and I smile a little at that. But it drops when I sight Darrock a few rows down, his anger still a high mountain as his gaze fixates on me. I look away first, guilt eating away at my courage.
A bead of sweat trickles down my back as I stop before Kier and Moira, and I stand tall, staring them down my nose.
Moira makes an annoyed sound. “She remains unremorseful.”
Whispers rise from all four corners of the hall, some foul insults aimed at me, some asking why I have not been killed yet. I ignore her, them, and turn my gaze focused on the man seating next to her. I bite back a gasp.
Gone is the confused empty-headed coward I know. This man, this stranger, I do not know him. It is Kier, well, obviously, but it’s as though the last few days have produced something terrifying in his place. It has nothing to do with the dangerous aura rolling off him, or the fire roaring in his eyes. It’s a collection of things tangible, yet not.
In place of his usually simple shirts, a crimson doublet practically roars at me. I blink, trailing my eyes over the rich, velvet fabric, and the crisp white shirt peeking out from under the collar of a jacket so black, it could compete with a moonless night. A few buttons of his shirt are undone, a casual touch to what I’d consider a very bold statement—Try me and die.
I’d laugh, but I hate to admit that it’s fucking hot.
Kier lounges on a tall seat carved from oak, one hand resting on the pommel of his unsheathed sword dragging off the stone floor beside tall, black leather boots, while the other idly traces lines along the armrest. It is the latter that has me doing a double take, though.
The familiar weight of his gaze seems shrouded in a veil of boredom, yet, underneath his nonchalant façade, something flickers, hinting at the ancient, vicious and devious being lurking behind those eyes.
Ah…well, in the normal Kier’s voice, I’ll be fucked.
The silence stretches in the hall, suffocating in its intensity. I’m holding my breath, and I can tell I’m not the only one, because every gaze flits nervously between the Alpha and I. I’m unused to the representation of Kier, just like they are, and that’s saying a lot, considering I’ve known him all my life.
“Jessamine Hunter,” he says tentatively, spreading out each syllable like he’s only just learning to pronounce my names. A shiver runs down my spine. His eyes, deep-set and cold, seem to pierce through me and everyone present, judging, analyzing, calculating, and when they rest on me again, my breath hitches. “Explain yourself.”