by Jana LaPelle
“Train? You will not be training. You are meant to be my queen. You will stand by my side once I take the throne from The Morrígan. Until then I will keep you out of harm’s way. I will protect you.” He says with stoic determination.
Making my way into the overly large closet, I peruse my choices and then say, “Whatever. I want several pairs of jeans and some tee shirts. You will make these available to me as well as computer access. I have research that I need to do. For today, I will wear one of these outfits only because there is nothing else for me. I will meet you in the outer chambers in thirty minutes.” I say as I flounce away with a rather drab dress in hand.
“Might I suggest…” Tarron begins.
“No. You may not. I will be out shortly.” I say as I walk into the bathroom and promptly shut the door on his handsome face.
I slump against the door and gather myself together. Sliding to the ground, I desperately attempt to push back against the pull of the blood contract. Now I can differentiate between the two. That's a plus. Not that it's going to help. My will is going to be tested. I think back to what Jasmine said, every time I feel drawn to him, I will think of the child that I carry that is just one more tie that binds me to my kindred, to Alaric. On another note, I’m so ravenous I could eat my weight in breakfast. Maybe that will dissuade my unwanted suitor.
As I finish getting myself together, I look at myself in the mirror. Since my transformation, I have never looked less appealing. The dress is not attractive at all and is ill fitting, and the color does not suit me. I'm pleased with the look as I exit the bathroom. Jasmine is waiting for me and smiles when she sees me.
"Well, that's attractive." She says with a cheeky grin.
‘That’s the idea. All right, the dark lord is waiting. Let’s go.” I say.
As we enter the outer chambers of my rooms, I see a massive spread waiting for me, and my stomach growls loudly. It's only been about eight hours since I ate but it feels like three or four days. Now that the event has come to pass, I realize that the days leading up to this I hardly ate at all and like before I feel as though I'm playing catch up. My new metabolism is rearing its ugly head. Tarron is waiting for me, and I notice several of his men in the peripheral areas of the room. My stomach, predictably, likes to announce how very hungry I am. I look up to see several of the males try to hide their smirks. So I take that as my cue, and I say, "This may take a while. My shifter side is insatiable. I find that I can now out eat most large, physically fit, grown men."
Tarron takes my comment in stride and says, “Please, satisfy your needs.”
Before pregnancy, my hunger was beyond anything I could imagine, but now I’m beginning to notice that my hunger is constant and I fill my plate and start to dig in. There are eggs, biscuits, bacon, sausage, hash browns, gravy, grits, ham, English muffins, pancakes, French toast, maple syrup. OMG, my stomach has died and gone to heaven. I have two plates in front of me as I begin to wolf down a bit of everything before me. As I empty the plates in front of me, I reach for a clean plate and begin to fill up.
I'm so totally absorbed in the moment that I don't even notice Tarron until I hear him say, "You have a rather ferocious appetite. Has it always been this way or only after your first shift?”
In between mouthfuls of food I say, "Only after I shifted. I've lost about ten pounds or so since the shift, and I feel like I'm constantly trying to play catch up. I hope you don't mind. If my eating habits bother you, I can eat in my chambers. Leading up to last night I really didn't eat as I should, and my cat is reminding me that I'm playing catch up." I say around a mouthful of food. Everything is so good that I find myself moaning over the contents of my third plate. I take a moment to assess whether or not I'm still hungry. I am, so I plate the fourth plate of food. I fill it with pancakes and sausage and bacon. Yum! I continue to stuff myself, and I will gladly fall into a food coma if that is an option but sadly, no.
“No. You will eat whatever you need to maintain your strength and your weight. I like you as you are. In fact, if I’m not mistaken you had slightly more curves the night I saw you for the first time. Eat your fill. I want to see you fill out again. I want to see the curves I saw a few weeks ago because I am now noticing that they are sadly lacking.” He says, eyeing me critically.
"Well, that may take several weeks of me stuffing my face. Nothing short of me inhaling daily amounts of food has been able to help me gain weight since I started losing it. No matter what I eat or how much I take in, I have still lost weight.
“Are you still hungry?” He asks with a smile.
I smile back and say, “I could probably eat a little more. Is that a problem?”
"No. Fill up," Tarron says with an indulgent smile as I continue to devour my breakfast. I've lost count as I begin to feel full. If possible, I'm drunk on food. I feel sated for the time being and know that it is only a matter of time that I wake up to reality.
Leaning back in my seat, I realize that the incubus opposite me has not even plated any food and I eye him curiously as I ask, “Are you not hungry? You must be rather disgusted with my eating habits.”
"Not at all, we have quite a few shifters amongst my men, and they all have ferocious appetites. For that very reason, the kitchens are open and manned around the clock. As for myself, I require a different sustenance. I do however eat on occasion." He says as he studies me for my reaction.
Cocking my head as I think back to several nights ago, I blurt out, “How does that work, what you were doing to that woman the other night? Is it a sexual act? How does that sustain you? Do you require food at all?” I ask gesturing to the remaining food on the table.
Seeing that I'm genuinely curious, he simply says, "No the act does not need to be a sexual act. Although, I rarely feed from males and only then it is to drain them to gain the upper hand in battle. It leaves the opponent weak and disoriented but restores my reserve. That is a painful feeding for the male and one that I would never inflict on a female. What you observed the other night was consensual. I have many females that willingly allow me to feed from them and in return, I see to it that they enjoy the experience, immensely." He says with a smirk as he gages my reaction.
“So you have a harem? I assume that these females are your sexual partners as well.” I ask bluntly and hear one of the males behind me make a sound that is a cross between a snort and a cough as I wait for Tarron’s response.
“If that were the case, would that bother you?” He asks.
"Why should that bother me?" I shoot back but realize that it does, and I'm beginning to question my sanity as I continue with a shrug, “That's your business. Let's get something straight. After everything was said and done over the last several weeks, you still chose to bring me to you, knowing that I belong to another. This dark majical bond that is pulling us together is not real. It is a fabrication, an imposter. My kindred and mate bond are still there, and I find that I am being pulled in opposite directions. At some point, you will tire of me and my constant refusal of this binding. So what you chose to do in your private time is your business." I conclude.
Again, he studies me quietly before a wicked grin appears on his face as he says, “I can see that it does, in fact, bother you. Would you prefer that I send them away? I can pleasure you in their stead. I know that I would prefer it to be that way as well.”
I realize that I'm torn. What the hell? I shouldn't care what he does, but I find that I do and I'm not sure how to answer and for the first time I see Jasmine giving me a questioning look that brings me back to reality with a sudden jolt as I attempt to come off uncaring. "Whatever. That's your business, but I assure you, you will not be pleasuring me." I say defiantly, but I find that I'm incredibly turned on by the idea. Damn it. For a moment, I concentrate on the dark binding, and I can visualize it as it continues to tighten its hold on me. When I look up, I see that Tarron is as caught up in the pull as I am
and I decide that I need some time away from my dark captor. "If you will excuse me, I think that I need a nap, I have not slept well in days."
As I rise, so does Tarron. He walks me to the door to my inner sanctuary. He lingers a moment as he stares down into my eyes. He lifts a hand to trail his index finger down the side of my cheek in a soft caress and as the moment lingers I find that I want to lean into him but fight the pull with everything I have. Pulling back from him, I turn and walk back through the door to my bedroom with an oddly quiet Jasmine.
Tarron speaks up before I can close the door on him and says, "You are not to leave your rooms." The spell is broken, as he effectively reminds me that I am his possession, his prisoner.
I swallow hard and turn away from him, and I hear the door click shut behind me. I walk over to close the window that was left ajar. The day is cool, dank, and dark and the room is as well. I turn on a lamp. The room is spacious and comfortable. There is a sitting area in one corner of the space with several bookcases full of books. The sofa like lounge chair looks comfortable and inviting. The bed takes up most of the space and is a large four poster. The colors of the room are very neutral. I wander over to the bed and collapse upon it as I feel the darkness pull me toward Tarron and my soul weeps for the loss of our true mate. This brief encounter has been exhausting, and the only comfort I find, is in the knowledge that I carry a part of Alaric with me, and I embrace the child I carry as I drift off to sleep.
Chapter 7
(Ashlinn)
Day 4
Over the course of the next few days, I lock myself away in my chambers wallowing in my misery. I surface only long enough to eat, and then I go back to huddling under the covers of my bed, hiding from the inevitable. Tarron comes to the door multiple times, only for me to turn him away. During this time, Jasmine has been very quiet giving me my space until this very moment.
"Enough is enough, Ashlinn! I've been patient with you. I’ve been quiet allowing you time to adjust, but by the goddess, Ash you stink and need a shower. I will no longer share these quarters with you and your foul odor. It's well past time that you get your ass up and get dressed." Throwing the covers back to allow the light of day to invade my dark cocoon, I see that my tiny friend is fuming. I ponder her standing beside me on the bedside table with her hands on her hips, glaring at me, and I know she's right. I smell. Yep, it’s official, I’ve become the source of the foul odor she’s talking about. I think I’ll have this dress burned after I shower. It’s the same dress that I wore my first morning here. That was three days ago.
I sigh as I throw the covers off of me and address my dear friend, "Okay, Jaz, you're right. I'll shower." I say. The room has a certain chill, and for the first time in days, I conjure a small ball of flames and direct it to the wood and kindling in the fireplace grate and watch the fire come to life. I walk over to the window and open it ajar to let the room air out as I go to the closet to find something to wear. I groan in frustration as, once again, I find no pants, only dresses that are more like vintage gowns. It's at that moment that I come up with a plan. If it's a princess he wants then a princess he shall get. "Jasmine, I'm going to need your help. Are you up for some fun?" I ask.
She looks at me with wide eyes as a grin begins to appear on her beautiful little face, "Thank the goddess, you're back! I'm in, what's your plan?" I quickly share with her my cunning little plan, and I go about gathering some things together. It’s simple really, he wants a queen. I’ll just give him what he thinks he wants and play dress up at the same time. Hopefully, I will be able to get the dark prince to open up to me and gain his trust. I quickly shower and dry my hair. The gown I chose has a medieval appearance, and as I step into it, Jasmine makes quick work of the back and cinches me in. As I look at myself critically in the mirror, I feel as if I'm looking at a stranger. The warmth has gone from my amber eyes, and my face has a bit of a hollow look to it, other than that I think that the look will do. The dress is a deep midnight blue with a scoop neck that barely contains my breast and displays the delicate column of my neck and exposed shoulders. It's form fitting down to mid hip where it flares ever so slightly, and the hem of the skirt rests on my toes with a bit of a train behind me. The sleeves begin at the very upper most part of my arm, and they come to rest at the top of my wrists but flare to a point and hang past my knees on the underside of my arm. There is an intricate golden embroidery that adorns the hem of the dress, the neckline, and the hem of the sleeves. The inner sleeve is a contrasting gold silk, and there is a medieval style sash that rests on my hips, the buckle is in a triquetra design and rests low in the center of my belly pointing downward. The sash itself is gold and straight and almost reaches the hem of the skirt. The dress definitely accentuates all the right places. I find that I'm sporting more cleavage than I'm comfortable with and my curves are all on full display.
While I was in the shower, Jasmine found a white gold elven leaf circlet with a large teardrop amber stone in the center. It now rests on my head, and the amber stone is resting in the middle of my forehead. Jasmine has begun weaving my abundant hair into an intricate design and continues to place matching hair pins all throughout my hair so that it looks like I have tiny little silver leaves holding the weaved pattern in place. As I stare at my reflection, I wish with all my heart that Alaric could see me. I know that he would approve of how I look and I instantly feel shame for having taken so much effort with my appearance, not for my kindred but for Tarron. I unconsciously begin to rub at the center of my chest as the ache there intensifies to the point that has me all but gasping for breath. That is until I feel Tarron coming this way and then it's replaced by an instantaneous pull toward the dark prince. I steel myself for his entrance into my chambers. I look over to Jasmine and ask, "Are you ready? Just follow my lead."
She smiles and says with a little midair curtsey, “Yes, my Lady. You look the part, Ash, you so look the part. You’re beautiful.”
"Then it's high time that I start acting the part of his queen," I say as I harden my heart and ready myself to turn on the charm. Today my end goal is to get the lay of the manor that we now reside in and the lay of the outer grounds. That's as far as I have gotten as Tarron knocks on the door to my bedroom. I have taken my stance by the fireplace, and I'm holding a copy of a book of Robert Frost’s poetry, it’s opened to “Fire and Ice”. The poem resonates with me. How very poetic. Today, I'm on a fact-gathering mission for information. Taking a deep breath, I say, "Come in."
(Tarron)
I'm surprised to hear her crisp, clear voice through the door and I slowly open it not sure of what I will find waiting for me. Her self-imposed withdrawal from day to day life has been somewhat disturbing. I was not sure what my next move was going to be if I found her in the same state this morning. The vision before me is not what I was expecting at all. She is lovely, and for a moment I can only stare at the picture she makes standing before the fireplace. For the first time since arriving in Ireland, the sun has come out, and the rays streaming through the window are a halo around her as if she is God sent. Maybe she is. I know that I should have never forced her into this situation, but once I saw her, I knew that she would be my salvation.
I don’t know how long I stood there just taking her in before I come to my senses. I clear my throat and say, “I came to see if you would consider having breakfast with me this morning, my Lady.”
"There is no need for such formalities, Tarron. You may call me Ashlinn. I will consider having breakfast with you on one condition, well maybe two. I would like to have a tour of the manor, but first I'm desperate to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. The sun is out, and I don't feel like being cooped up in these rooms anymore." She says, pausing for effect before continuing, "Those are my conditions."
I look her over and make my decision very quickly. It would do everyone here some good to see their future queen, and today she fits the image perfectly, and I find myself saying, "Agre
ed. I will be your personal escort. We can perhaps, begin to get to know one another."
“Okay, then. We have a deal. First, breakfast and then a walk around the grounds, you don’t have to feel obligated to stay with me. I’m sure you’re very busy.” She says as she turns to place the book in her hand on the mantle. Her finger hesitates to leave the last page she read. As if an afterthought just occurs to her, she says, “Jasmine, will accompany us.”
I can’t help the smirk that appears as I say, “But of course. My dear princess, are you afraid to be alone with me?”
She is quick to respond as she says, “Not at all. We discussed her role the other day. She is to be my chaperone.”
For some reason, her response angers me, and I'm quick to retort, "I'm sure that you did not require a chaperone with Prince Alaric." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them when I see the pained expression cross her face and she quickly turns away from me no doubt to collect herself, and I notice her hand going to her breast. When she turns back to me, it's as if she has successfully slid a mask in place and my regret burns deeply within me. For some reason, I feel as if I have failed my first test with her.
“Alaric is my kindred. He is my shifter mate. He never forced a binding upon me. You, on the other hand, I do not trust. That can only be earned with time and your actions. So far, you have shown me that you are selfish in your endeavor to acquire me. So yes, Jasmine will accompany us." She says in a clipped tone.
I take notice that she said acquire as if she feels like a possession. Even though I do not care for her tone, I concede. “As you wish, my Lady,” I know I need to earn her trust. That starts today.
The morning meal is uneventful. She is reticent and not as animated as our previous meeting. My words have caused her great pain, and I am truly sorry for that. I notice that she makes quick work of her meal as she sits back in her seat studying me, her chin is tilted up in a defiant manner and she says, “I’m ready for my walk now.”