Brie
I can’t get out of this gown fast enough.
I lean against the door of my bedroom to close it, praying the butter-white walls give me some sense of peace, but my heart is absolutely racing.
I rip at my bodice, cursing under my breath as the satin fabric snags and squeals instead of just–of just coming off. I can’t breathe. I can’t force a breath past the painful squeezing sensation echoing through my lungs.
I gasp, tugging at the fabric until the bodice finally gives way. I grip my knees, gulping down air. The room spins for several more seconds before slowing, but I feel…
Totally, completely overcome.
“This isn’t happening,” I rasp, rising up and leaning my weight against the door. “This isn’t happening.” I close my eyes against the view of the mountains peeking through the white curtains currently dancing in the warm breeze.
Only when I find it easier to breathe do I move from the door, stepping out of my dress until I’m in nothing but the tight shapewear I stuffed myself in beneath. I wad the dress into a ball and thrust it into the very back of my closet, kicking shoes and old pairs of jeans over it, then strip out of my undergarments and hastily pull on my usual outfit–a pair of loose fitting cream colored trousers and a white, flowy button-down top, rolling up the cuffs. I secure the pants with a belt and stomp back into my bedroom, looking around like the man is going to be standing here, waiting for me. Waiting to claim me, to take me as his mate.
But I’m alone.
I sink in front of my vanity and make my hands busy pulling pins from my thick, chestnut brown hair. It falls in bouncy, heat-manipulated curls against my shoulders, rolling down my mid-back. I brush it thoroughly, ignoring the tightness plaguing my chest, until it shines and feels like silk between my fingers. I don a headband and scrub my face with makeup wipes until my freckles come out to play, and the dark circles under my eyes stare back at me through the mirror.
I sniffle, shaking my head as I roughly open and shut drawers and spread an assortment of lotions, serums, and salves on the vanity, then I begin to piece myself back together.
But my hands shake. My fingers tremble as I brush blush over my cheekbones. My skin pebbles against a sudden chill I can’t find a reason for other than the strange, overwhelming sensation of feeling utterly, completely empty.
This isn’t what it’s supposed to feel like, is it? People talk about finding their mates all the time. Hell, there are reality TV shows about it playing on an endless loop. How do they describe it? Tasting color. Feeling like you’ve never once felt whole until you see them for the first time?
I feel… terror. Dread. Worry. All bad things that tangle and yank at my chest until I find myself breathless once again.
This wasn’t the plan. I’m supposed to find an Alpha–someone with a large, influential pack. Someone with power and sway that can stand at my side and pledge loyalty to my family, and my sister, when she ascends the throne, because she’ll need all the support she can get when that time comes.
Not a… not a warrior.
I start to panic, clapping a hand over my chest to try to steady my thundering heart as the room starts to tilt to the side, spinning off its axis.
But the door to my room creeps open on a phantom wind.
“Go–go away, please,” I murmur, swallowing back my feelings and burying them deep.
The faint clicking of a bell and tiny, soft footsteps trot in my direction. I glance at the pure white, exceedingly fluffy cat easing into the room, its sea-green eyes bright and swirling with magic. It wears a silver collar with a large moonstone around its neck, like usual.
I watch its reflection in the mirror as it prances across the room and hops on my bed without a care in the world and makes a show of getting comfortable.
“Please leave. I don’t want company.”
I fumble with a bottle of lotion and drop it on the ground. The cat yawns widely and rolls over onto its back, all four legs splayed in the air. I curse under my breath, bending down to fetch the bottle that has now rolled under the vanity, and when I sit up, the cat has been replaced by my sister, dressed in hot-pink pajamas made of velvet with her gorgeous dark hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head.
She toys with her collar–now a necklace–while smirking at my reflection.
“You don’t get free rein of my room whenever you feel like it,” I hiss.
“Don’t get all pissy with me,” she snorts, rolling her eyes as she flips to her stomach and props her chin on her fist. “You’re the one who stormed out of that lovely little luncheon and got mom all in a tizzy. She called for a healer, you know, thinking you were having an aneurysm or something.”
“I–I wasn’t. It’s just a migraine.”
“Sure, sis,” she sighs, kicking her legs. “What are you doing now?”
“I have a meeting this evening with the Beta’s wife about the charity ball next month,” I mumble, leaning toward the mirror to adjust my eyeliner.
“Well, I don’t care about that–”
“Obviously–”
“Why are you up here picking at yourself instead of downstairs with Dad and Aris? You’ve been an absolute menace the past few days about how late they were returning, and now you’ve ghosted them completely.”
“I needed a minute alone.”
“Well, you missed Mom chewing out Captain Atrayis. Thankfully, his minions had already gotten their plates and went out on the veranda to enjoy the sun and their lunches–”
“Who?” I cut in, looking at her over her shoulder.
“Captain Atrayis,” she sighs, her voice dripping with boredom. “I’m shocked you didn’t recognize him, but I guess it has been years since–”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Logan, duh. The tall brute of a man that you took one look at and nearly fainted? Or was I just imagining that?”
It all comes back to me in a rush that leaves me breathless. She’s right. I hadn’t recognized him at first. He’s no longer the gangly, incredibly serious and standoff-ish teenager who used to steer clear of us whenever we visited Silverhide when I was young.
He’s sometimes referred to us as a cousin, but in reality, that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s never made an effort to be a part of the family.
“Logan,” I echo, swallowing hard. My chest aches again, worse than before, like my heart is trying to pull me from the room. “Why did Mom–why did she chew him out?”
“Why do you think?” she asks, shaking her head as I absently reach for my comb just to do something with my hands. “He’s on leave for two weeks I guess and spending it here instead of visiting Aviva and Ryan in Silverhide. She told him he keeps breaking Aviva’s heart and then turned to Dad and asked why he keeps Logan out in the field so often, knowing how Ryan and Aviva feel about it, and Dad told her to lay off, that they’d just returned from a six-week stint in Tarsian–” Maeve’s words start to blur together as I needlessly comb my hair, unable to think past that… look he’d given me.
The way his pupils expanded at the same moment my entire body lurched in his direction against my will?
There’s no way around this. There’s nothing I can say to convince myself what I felt–what I’m feeling–wasn’t the mate bond.
“And he just stood there and took it. He reminds me a lot of Dad, you know. Just… unfazable.”
“Mhmm.” My comb clatters to the floor. I knock over several nail polish bottles in my haste to retrieve it.
“What is up with you?” Maeve laughs. “You’re acting so weird–”
“I’m just–”
“It was that Alpha thing, wasn’t it? That fucking prick–”
“Maeve–”
“He basically said he’s not interested, and that his son wouldn’t be interested, because you don’t have powers. That’s fucked up. Like, could they do better?”
I wince even though Maeve is in my corner. She doesn’t understand. How could she?
“I mean, look at you!” She slides off the bed with cat-like grace, sauntering over to me. She runs her fingers through my hair, twisting the curls back in place before leaning down to rest her chin on the top of my head, staring at me through the mirror. “You’re a fucking bombshell.”
“You don’t need to butter me up.”
She sighs, frowning. “You know, you have the best rack in Eastonia. I wish you got more credit for that.”
“Maeve!”
I swat her away, but now she’s turning pink and giggling, “What? You know it’s true. People journey to Crescent Falls to go under the knife for breasts like yours. I’m willing to bet people cut your pictures out of magazines and take them to the surgeons, saying, ‘That's what I want!’”
“You’re making my headache worse,” I cut in, trying to glare, but my mouth ticks up into a smile.
“Meanwhile,” she says dramatically, turning side to side in the mirror, “I have the body of a praying mantis.”
“You’re just very tall–”
“Anyway,” she huffs, flopping back onto the bed. “Fuck these Alphas and their sons, and nephews, and uncles or whatever. I think you should just quit.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Uh, yeah, you can. You’re coming to Moonrise with me to serve as my second when the time comes, and when I’m queen, we won’t need men. We’ll… rule together–and eat chocolate and drink wine from sunup to sun down.”
“You’ll be very busy running a kingdom.”
“Like it’s hard?” She snorts a laugh, closing her eyes.
I watch her take a deep breath, smiling to myself. She has no idea I’m doing this for her. For all of them, actually.
It’s just impossible to articulate why.
That horrible, twisting feeling of guilt settles in my belly, nearly erasing the pesky, throbbing ache in my chest. I feel suddenly torn in two different directions. My lips part as I slowly swivel in my stool to… tell her what happened, what I felt, how I found my mate but…
“Oh!” She yawns, stretching her arms above her head as she slumps into the mattress. “Dad wanted to talk to you.”
“When?”
“Like, ten minutes ago. That’s why I came up here.”
“Ugh, Maeve,” I grumble, rising and smoothing the wrinkles from my shirt. “Tell me these things, first, okay?” I hurry out of the room, skipping steps on my way down the winding stairs leading away from my bedroom in one of the many towers. I chose the room long ago, when I was a little girl and no longer afraid of the often dark hallways and the spooky spirit inhabiting our home. I have a view of the entire territory from up here. I get to watch the sun rise from one window and the sunset from another.
It’s my own personal haven… when Maeve leaves me alone–which is rare.
Dad isn’t in his office. I hurry through the hallways branching off the grand foyer, skidding to a halt when I notice a few of his Ghost warriors leaving through the front doors. They don’t see me scanning their group, but my heart skips several beats before settling, and a feeling of relief washes over me.
Logan isn’t here.
I should feel good about that, right?
I gather myself and race to my parents’ dedicated wing of the castle, climbing another set of stairs, then another, until my legs burn, and my breath starts coming in short rasps.
I finally find Dad in a sitting room painted in dark blues, pouring himself a drink and running his fingers through his normally short cropped blond hair.
“You wanted to see me?” I gasp, bracing myself on the doorway.
He turns to me, scanning my face while furrowing his brow. “Did you run here?”
“Maeve failed to tell me you wanted to talk.”
“It’s not that serious.” He motions to an armchair.
I hesitate, choosing to stay fixed to the doorframe. “What is it, then?”
“You haven’t seen me in six weeks, and this is the welcome I get?” There’s a teasing glint to his words, but his eyes remain serious.
I’ve always been close to Dad. He understands me. I’m drawn to his quiet, serious nature. It’s a far cry from the drama of emotions in the castle when me, my sister, and my mom are left together without him as a buffer.
“What is it, Dad?”
“You’re done with this… arranged marriage scheme you have going on.”
I straighten, steeling my expression. “I’m not–It’s not a scheme or an arrangement. No one’s forcing me to do it. I need to find a husband–”
He shakes his head. “You don’t.”
“I do–”
“You’re giving your mother heart palpitations, Brie. She won’t admit it, but she’s going insane trying to support you in this, and I can’t take it anymore. I wasn’t thrilled to begin with.”
“I’m turning twenty-three this year.”
“Does that matter?”
“I’m a princess and–”
“And a historian,” he cuts in. “With a second degree in law–”
“To help Maeve–”
“You’re smart and talented and have a future ahead of you–”
“I don’t have powers,” I cry out, then clasp my hand over my mouth.
It’s rare for me to have emotional outbursts. I’m normally very good at keeping those feelings contained, but today has been anything but normal or routine. I feel completely out of it, like my brain has fallen from my skull and left the building with no plans to return.
Dad sighs heavily, looking at me with so much pity it makes me feel sick to my stomach.
“You’re done, Brie. No more meetings with Alphas. No more sending your mom and grandma on escapades to match-make for you. In fact… I think you need a break.”
“I already told Mom I’m not going to Crescent Falls this summer.”
“You’re right. You’re not. You’re going to Maatua, instead. A few weeks with your great-aunt Maddy will do you some good, I think. It’s already been arranged. And,” he says, sinking into a chair. “You’ll have an escort to the island.”
I grip the doorframe. Please, Goddess, no… “Who?”