*Isla*
Maddox went back to the dance.
I don’t blame him. I understand he needs to be there, and I understand a bit more why he didn’t tell me about Trinity, too. I have never lost someone like that before—someone I loved with all of my heart, a spouse, a mate, but I can imagine how painful it would be not only to have lost them, but to also blame myself for their death, and then to see them again.
I put myself in Maddox’s position. How would I feel if I had watched him die, thought it was probably my fault, and then saw him again in the face of his cousin?
It’s hard to say what a person would do in those circumstances, but it is easy for me to understand that it would be difficult.
For the next few weeks, I am hyper-focused on every movement Maddox makes. Which woman is he talking to? When is he talking to them? How does he approach them, and how do they approach him?
But he doesn’t disappoint men.
After the pomp and circumstance of the ball was over, and all of the families went home, he did exactly what he said he would do.
He basically ignores all of the women, all of the time.
We do have dinner together every night, all of us, the women, Maddox, Seth, and a few other of the higher ranking nobles—people like the duchess and her family. Even though the hostilities have officially ended, the nobles that came to the castle for shelter stay here because their husbands are mostly the ones negotiating peace and making sure all is well in the pack lands for now. Also, some of them have become comfortable here.
At dinner, different women flirt with Maddox, trying to catch his attention. They ask about activities. Would he like to go for a walk in the gardens? Could he show them the library? Once, one of them even mentions a draft in her bedroom she would like for him to check out.
Maddox declines. Always.
Every night, he is either in my bed, in my arms, or I am in his, just like none of these other people are here.
Rumors abound. I hear them as whispers in the hallway when I venture out, which isn’t that often. I see their eyes at dinner and when we pass one another on the way to or from the garden or library.
Of course, Poppy knows all, gathering information from the other maids. Even the ones that have come along with the women from their various pack lands still like to talk to the staff of the castle.
I am a shrew. I am a whore. I am that awful woman who has his nuts tied up in my iron grasp. I should be disqualified. I should be ignored. I should be run out of the castle.
One even thinks I should be executed for crimes against the crown, though I don’t exactly know what it is she thinks I am guilty of.
I hear it all--and it isn’t pleasant. In fact, a lot of their remarks downright hurt. But I listen to them because I have no choice.
Maddox is better at rolling his eyes and saying not to worry about it than he is actually doing anything about it, but then, he is used to it. As king, he constantly has people talking about him, saying awful things.
I am not used to it, but I suppose I can get used to it.
This is the situation now, and it will be until I am showing enough that more rumors start.
In bed, in Maddox’s arms, when I can see I have a tiny baby bump, I have to ask him, “How far along is far enough?”
His eyebrows arch as he tries to decode what I am saying. “Do you mean… before we tell everyone?”
I nod. “I have an appointment with Mystica in the morning to check the health of the baby. She may even be able to tell the sex. Not that I don’t already know.”
He smirks at me. “Do you think it’s a boy still? Because of your dream?”
“Yes, I do. In fact, if it’s not a boy, I will be shocked. Do you want to come to the appointment?” I hope that he will. I want him there with me.
“I’m not sure,” he admits, and I feel my heart drop. “It’s not that I don’t want to be there, Isla, it’s just… I don’t know how I feel about it.”
Confused, I brush my palm against his cheek. He’s still warm and slightly damp from the perspiration left after our lovemaking. “What are you unsure about?”
Maddox sighs and rolls onto his back. I lower my hand to his chiseled chest, slowly running my hand back and forth across the plane of pure muscle. “I’m just afraid there might be something wrong, and I’m not sure how I will handle it.”
He’s being honest with me. Since the incident with the ball, when he didn’t tell me about Trinity, he has been much more honest with me about everything. It’s been a struggle for him, but I appreciate it so much.
I’m not sure what to tell him, though. “Would you rather hear it from Mystica in a setting where she can answer your questions or from me later?” I ask him. “If there is something wrong, I’m going to be very upset, and I might not even know what to ask or what she tells me. Even with Poppy there, well, you know how that goes.”
He makes a face that says he is not as fond of Poppy as I am and nothing else needs to be said.
After a moment, he asks, “Do you want me there?”
“Of course, I want you there.” I scoot a bit closer and rest my chin on his shoulder. “But I don’t want you to be there if you’re going to be actin all… grumpy.”
“That’s what I do,” he says with a smirk. “I’m a grump.”
“You are a grump, but surely you can find a way to be not a grump for the sake of helping me get through the examination.” I lean my mouth down and kiss his shoulder.
“Yeah, okay.” He gives in, and I can tell it’s not because he wants to but because he knows I need him to. “I’ll be there. Just don’t expect me to be bouncing off the walls the way that Poppy would be.”
“Does that mean I have to tell Poppy she’s not going?” I ask.
He turns and looks at me, his eyes like fire in the moonlight. “Yes. I don’t see any reason for her to be there. I’m pretty sure this isn’t her baby.”
He has a point. I only wanted her there for moral support, and now, if he is going, that isn’t necessary.
She’s not going to see it that way.
“You tell her,” I plead. “You’re so much better at giving people bad news than I am.”
“She’s your friend. Why should I tell her?” He reaches over and brushes my hair off my bare shoulder, sending a tickle down my spine that has more to do with his touch than the light touch of my curls.
“Because, it’s your fault she can’t come.” I push the blankets off him and swing my leg over his hips, causing him to roll back onto his back. I have his attention now.
His hands go to my slightly protruding abdomen. Nothing else much has changed about my body, so far. I haven’t gained any weight yet, and nothing seems to be swollen, but it’s proof that the baby I know is in there will be making his way out into the world soon enough.
“Isla…” Maddox says, but before he can protest my request that he be the one to tell my maid her services are not needed in the doctor’s office, I take hold of his already erect dick, and fist him a few times, sliding my fingers up and down his shaft.
He tips his head back, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open.
“Please?” I ask him.
At this point, I don’t think he knows what I’m talking about.
“Anything you want, baby.”
I can’t help but grin as I lift up and position the slick head of his massive member against my entryway. He is definitely ready for another round.
Taking my time, I move up and down, squeezing my muscles tightly around him as I do so, sending his head spinning. His hands are on my hips, but he is in no position to guide me. He has lost track of the world around me.
His thumb slides between my folds and finds my nub, and now, I am right there with him, my mind fuzzy as the world spins around us. He pinches and rolls me until only foul language comes from my mouth, it feels so good. His other hand slides up to my breast, and he works my nipple the same way. I sink my fingernails into his shoulders and hang on for dear life as ripples of pleasure pulse through me.
He knows how to send me over the edge so quickly and leave me lingering there for so long, sometimes it seems like magic to me.
I pick up the speed, rocking back and forth, up and down faster and faster until I am panting, moaning, shouting his name. When he joins me and comes undone beneath me, he grunts a few times, holding onto my waist, and fills me with his warmth.
Leaning down, my mouth finds his, even though my eyes are closed tightly with the continued bliss of our love-making hanging on well past the cessation of movement.
I collapse on his chest and he wraps his arms around me. This is perfection. This is one of the reasons I don’t think I can ever be without him.
Another reason is that he has shown me that he truly does love me by ignoring the other girls. I wish this hadn’t been necessary to begin with, but now that we are here, I’m glad he’s paying them no mind.
Finally, there’s the little life within me, the one that I am carrying for this man, the child who will one day become king.
As I begin to fall asleep, I’m certain that I’ve made the right decision to stay.