Misty
I keep my head down as Cole briskly leads Georgia and me into the depths of the castle. I can tell we’re in an area dedicated to maids and servants. The hallways are narrow and connect to a massive kitchen, a huge laundry room, and several rooms I’m sure are used for mending or to house supplies.
Maids scurry out of our way as Orion stalks ahead of us. Cole keeps his hand firmly fixed on my upper arm. There’s nothing gentle about his touch. I don’t turn to look into the eyes of the curious staff peeking their heads through doorways, trying to catch a glimpse of the king and his… entourage? No, captives. Still, captives. Especially based on the way he’s dragging me up a flight of stairs. He wants it to look rough.
So, I squirm a bit. He doesn’t tell me to stop. If anything, he tightens his grip in encouragement.
Orion says under his breath, “We decided it would be best to house her in your rooms. Her friend–”
“Mind-link, Orion,” Cole says flatly, ripping me around a sharp corner.
I get a single glimpse of what I’d consider the main area of the castle before we pass into another narrow back hallway. White marble. Intricate craftsmanship. It’s like this palace was carved by a master sculptor. It’s a work of art.
But the hurried footsteps of Georgia, Luke, and Declan disappear behind me when we reach the top of another staircase. I turn and see nothing but shadows. “Where’d they go?”
Cole shushes me, saying into my head, ‘Outside of our rooms, do not speak directly to me.’
I chew my lower lip, glaring up at him as he yanks me back and forth, around corners, down more narrow hallways that form a spider’s web of connections behind the gilded walls of his palace.
This is his home. His domain. And he’s just as tense and cold as he’d been in the order’s fortress in the middle of the desert.
We pass several inconspicuous doors before Orion stops at the very end of the hallway. He pulls a massive set of keys from the pocket of his tailored jacket and slides one into a narrow wooden door. He pushes it open, the new air carrying the scent of lilies and salt as Orion steps into the darkness. We follow.
Another tight room. Another key. Then, we’re standing in a hallway bathed in sunlight that dances across white floral wallpaper and warm-tone hardwood flooring.
Dainty tables line the walls on either side. Cole’s hand drops from my arm. He pushes the hood of his cloak back before shrugging out of the length of fabric completely, tossing it into Orion’s waiting arms. “Burn it.”
I stand with Orion while Cole stalks down the hallway, turning to the left. I glance at Orion, taking in his details–his short light brown hair, the lines beside his eyes and mouth, the scruffy beard and light blue eyes–then follow my fake future baby daddy into what I believe is his private apartment in the castle.
The space erupts around me. Cole’s standing near the far wall of a large sitting room that’s open to the rest of the apartment. Several doors are open, showcasing two bathrooms, two bedrooms, an office, and a small, personal library.
I wouldn’t expect Cole to live in a place like this. It’s very feminine, honestly. The wallpaper is light and floral, and the place is absolutely spotless.
Then I remember the fact that he’s likely spent very little time in this place. He didn’t grow up here. He went to college in Serpentia then moved to Crescent Falls for the rest of his schooling.
I find myself slightly disappointed I’m not seeing a glimpse of who he really is right now.
“Are we alone?” Cole asks, turning to Orion, who nods. Cole licks his lips, his body totally, completely rigid. “I don’t want any maids in here unless I’m present. No one comes through those doors–” he points to a set of massive white double doors nearby, presumably the main entrance to the apartment, “--unless I’m already here. Otherwise, Mystica’s unbothered. No one comes in or out, and she doesn’t leave without a vetted escort.”
“Misty,” I correct under my breath. Both men glance at me.
“I want guards outside the door,” Cole continues.
“We have a few left,” Orion says, his jaw clenched. “It hasn’t spread to everyone.”
Spread. The word bounces through my skull looking for a place to land, but I don't let it. I refuse to think about Cole’s curse, or why some guards have glowing eyes and others don’t. Later. I’ll think about it later.
“I need updates, numbers,” Cole continues, pacing back in the direction we came. “I need to meet with any commanders who still have their minds to themselves.”
“We’re prepared to meet with you,” Orion says, but his tone has a hint of… something. There’s a crack, like his real emotions are trying to choke him.
“What’s happening on the border?” Cole asks, turning around when he reaches a row of tall, arching windows overlooking what might be a huge courtyard.
I’m not sure what to do right now, so I tuck my arms behind my back and decide to explore. I already know what’s happening at the border because I had dreams of my family pulling back, taking a break, and giving themselves time to regroup.
My visions are confirmed when Orion says, “The Allied Kings have their armies camping out at the border. We’ve been sending as many people through to their side as we can, but Richard has his own forces trying to undo our progress. He has his army scattered across the border at this point. We’ve been finding breaks where we can, pushing townsfolk through. Only a few Alphas have agreed to leave, however. Those that have left with their packs agreed to carry information. They’re on our side.”
My stomach turns as I step into one of the bedrooms. It’s empty. Not a lick of furniture. I move onto the second.
“What are our chances of getting the princess out unseen?”
“Highly unlikely. Richard’s army… they know what to do if she’s seen, if she tries to escape. Their hivemind….” Orion trails off, presumably having the rest of the conversation over the mind-link as I step into the main bedroom.
Our bedroom, obviously, because I’m still his breeder.
It’s a south facing room. Sunlight pours over a massive four-poster bed, baking the clean white sheets and silken duvet.
That’s really it. It’s not overly decorated. It smells like… cleaning solution. It doesn’t smell like Cole at all.
I flip on the light in the bathroom as their conversation carries through the air.
“She needs clothes. Everything. We’re coming here with nothing.”
“Lavender has already started a wardrobe for her. She just needs her measurements.”
“Can Lavender still be trusted?”
“Yes, she’s unscathed. She has maids who–”
I turn on the shower, drowning out their voices for good. Steam rises, billowing over the smooth, white and emerald tiles. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and wince.
I’m a mess. I drown in Cole’s sweatshirt, and my skin is gaunt and pale from exhaustion and stress. My hair is a disaster, but my appearance is one thing I can fix. The only thing I have control over, honestly.
I find some big, fluffy towels and some unlabeled bottles of what I hope are shampoo and conditioner, then I strip out of my grubby clothes, kicking them into the corner of the room.
The water feels amazing–not stale and barely warm like at the fortress. I scrub the hell out of my hair, raking my fingers through it, then coat my body in so much soap the suds gather ankle deep at my feet.
I stay in the shower longer than I need to, my forehead leaning on the tiles, and when I finally decide to emerge and wrap myself in a towel, I walk into the bedroom to find Cole walking out of the closet with several items of clothing draped over his arm. Orion is gone. We’re alone. Totally alone.
We stare at each other for a moment. I resist the urge to ask, “What now?” and waltz to the bed instead, with a bottle of lotion in my hand, and plop down.
I can feel Cole watching me but keep my eyes on my legs as I use the lotion. It smells fine–like vanilla and maybe… apricots.
The bed shifts beside me. Cole sits on the edge near the pillows, untying his shoes, the clothing he fetched from the closet resting between us.
“Can I see your back?” I ask into the deafening silence.
“I think we have a lot to discuss–”
“I don’t care,” I say softly, under my breath. “I don’t care about your rules, what I need to do and be while I’m here. I get it. I understand. I saw–” I catch myself before telling him I’d shared his nightmare while we were in the car. “I saw how tense you were when we were walking through the castle to this… place. I get it. I’m in danger. We’re all in danger.”
“I’m still the king.”
I turn to look at him over my shoulder, my wet hair sticking to my skin. “Yeah, I guess you are.” I try to give him a smile, but it falls flat. “The rebel king. Wolf King of the Resistance”
He… smiles. Finally, actually, smiles. But he looks down at his lap while he does it, refusing to look me in the eyes. “That sounds like the title of a bad movie.”
“Well, our lives are a bad movie right now,” I quip, edging closer to him. “I need to see your back–now.”
“It’s fine. It feels–”
I smooth my fingers over the back of his neck where a new symbol is already forming. My stomach tightens. I thought I’d cured him with my new, special powers but….
He reaches up to grip my fingers. “Misty–it’s okay. You’ve done enough.”
“I can just–just keep healing you,” I say, my voice full of gravel as I desperately try to keep my wits about me. “I’ll heal you when you need it, so you’re not in pain.”
He lets my fingers drop and allows me to roll up his shirt. His muscled back shines in the sunlight, highlighting the scars littering his skin. It looks so much better than it had when I first saw it. Some symbols are completely gone, and others are raised and silver, but new, smaller, deeper cuts have started to spread and I… failed.
I press my hands to his back and let my healing powers flair. He lets me do it for a few seconds before arching away. “I can’t let you keep doing this.”
“I have to.”
“No,” he says under his breath, rising from the bed and turning toward me, fisting his shirt.
I kneel on the bed, still only wearing a towel. “Why not?”
He arches his brow. “Because I don’t want you to.”
“Why?”
“Don’t–don’t argue with me about this–”
“I’m stuck in this too, Cole. For Goddess’ sake–” I slide off the bed and grab a button down shirt he’d laid on the sheets, obviously for himself, then pad to the bathroom.
“Misty.”
“What?” I shout, turning to face him. “What do you want? What am I supposed to be doing right now? Huh? Sitting around, by myself, cloistered here, while you do what? Let this curse eat you, and your court, alive? That’s what’s happening, right? The curse gives Richard some kind of power over you? He cursed your father and turned him into his puppet, didn’t he? He cursed you after you killed your dad, then used Adrian and his mate to get you to surrender to him? You were never given a choice in any of this, were you?”
Cole stares at me, his jaw ticking with words unsaid.
I nod to myself, chuckling darkly. “How do I factor into this? My powers? Richard needs me for something, right? Well, so do you, and I’m not going to sit by and watch you slowly die while you–”
“While I what?” That smooth, carefully crafted patience that radiates from him finally snaps. He stalks toward me, a brow raised. “While I what, Misty?”
“Keep me locked up here like a precious trophy you plan to dangle in front of Richard!”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” he growls, bracing his hands on either side of the doorframe. “It wasn’t my decision to ever involve you. I fought to keep you out of this!”
“Why? I’m not your responsibility. You owe me nothing.”
“I owe it to your family to see you to safety.”
“They can handle their own business!” I stand on my toes, trying to look harder, maybe more menacing. “I can handle my own business. I’m in control of my powers, and I can use them as I wish, and I will continue to heal you, and you’ll continue to let me!”
His eyes are dark as he looks down at me, barely an inch of distance between us. My heart beats out of rhythm as we continue to glower at each other.
I go to push him away, but I clap my hand against his chest instead, sending my healing powers bursting forward. He winces but holds my gaze.
“Stop.”
“No.”
He grabs me, clutching me close, leaning down so we’re nose to nose. “I said stop.”
“I said no.”
“You need to stay away from me, Misty.”
“Why?”
His lips brush against mine. He takes a ragged breath, closing his eyes as my powers sweep over his skin.
Another sensation takes over. A sensation that’s been making me entirely insane since the moment I began to think he wasn’t the monster he portrayed himself as.
I want him to live. I need him to be okay.
Because I wanthim. I want to know him beyond this fucked up mess we’re stuck in.
I rise up on my toes and kiss him soundly.