by Haven Handel
Closing his eyes and resting his head back on the chair, Artem chuckled. “I haven’t seen a golf course in ten long months, Deo.”
The room filled with silence. Eyes on the fire, I took another sip of my drink. Ten months ago, Cassandra had broken our vow. Ten months ago, everything had changed for the Ambrosias. That was when the real work had begun. Thank heavens paranormal wolves don’t sleep.
His eyes remained closed. “Should we have warned her?” Artem gravely asked.
Focusing my eye on the part of the flame closest to the burning log, I watched the flickering azure color that was there appear, disappear, reappear. It came and went as Cassandra’s aura had that afternoon in the basilica’s courtyard.
My voice low, I answered, “We had no way of knowing. I assumed our marriage to be solid. Warning her could have put her life in imminent danger; it wasn’t worth the risk.”
I knew what was coming next. My familiarity of the statement didn’t make it any less gut wrenching to hear.
Artem’s eyes flung opened. He spoke with conviction. “You should have taken your wife in hand when you married her, Deo. Cassandra is as strong-willed a woman as I have ever seen. From what you told us of her, she was practically begging you to. The arguments? A woman picking fights with you over nothing is only asking for one thing—your dominance.”
“I was in denial,” I mused, swirling the liquor against the sides of the glass. The amber waves rose and fell over the cut crystal. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”
“What changed?” Artem asked, his dark eyes looking at me with a fatherly concern. “I can tell just by the way she moves her body around yours, looking up to you through her lashes, that you have finally taken that woman into your hands. It is about time.” Leaning back in his chair, staring at the fire, Artem gave a chuckle. “Her clues gave it away, and Baal told me, of course.”
“There are no secrets in this family. No?” I laughed. Baal was never one to shy away from sharing information. Especially when he found humor in it, as he had when he learned of my feisty lawyer wife receiving my discipline.
Dodging the question, I said, “You will grow to love her, Artem, like a daughter. I am sure of it.” I took the last sip of my drink.
“When was it?” he repeated quietly.
Rising and walking to the bar to refill my glass, I caught a glimpse of Artem’s unsure gaze. He did not yet trust Cassandra. Having only watched her from afar, as all the pack had, except Alekos and me, he did not know her. Only had caught glimpses of her in the courtroom when he checked up on her periodically, or hearing stories from me, Alekos, or Baal, when my right-hand man was sharing something he had heard.
My story would only make it worse, but there was little I could hide from my mentor. Had I heeded his advice sooner… My back facing Artem, I took my time opening the decanter of whiskey. Clearing my voice, I answered, openly, “She said she was leaving me.”
I could hear Artem’s sharp intake of breath.
I filled my glass. The liquid splashed as it hit the empty bottom of my cup. I held the decanter lid in my hand, feeling its weight in my palm a moment before replacing it. I returned to my seat.
Artem’s dark brow was furrowed, his eyes narrowing at me. “Not only does your wife kiss another man, she threatens to leave the marriage? How can this be, Deo? If you love each other as you said you did?”
“It’s not simple like it is with Dolly,” I sighed. My Aunt Dolly knew what she wanted and was upfront about it. Though a strong-willed woman herself, she desired a man to care for her and protect her, to be a disciplinarian as well as her lover. She had found that with Artem. And by nature, Dolly was as loyal as a woman came.
“Cassandra is a bit more complicated,” I began. “Not knowing what she desired until I had taken her over my lap and shown her, she had fought me in our marriage. Never letting me ‘win’, she was a lawyer in our living room as much as she was in the courtroom. So many times, I had wanted to take her in hand, but I feared her reaction, that she would leave me. When she finally did throw the gruesome words at me, I knew I had nothing to lose.”
“If the man was just a ‘mistake’, why leave you?”
“I left her first. Finding out about that night, I grew cold to her. Cut her off from me emotionally at a time that she needed me most. Locking myself in my office on weekends, preparing for the worst, while avoiding my wife.” I did not add that it had caused me pain just to cast my eyes on her during that dark, dark time. My heart had been broken, and she had been in as much pain as I. “She was not leaving. It was a cry for attention.”
Artem did not know the Cassandra I knew. Lovely, caring, fiery as the embers that burned before me, and brilliant. I could only hope that, through the ashes of this dangerous gathering, some good could come. Perhaps Cassandra would grow close with my family. Perhaps Artem could grow to love her as a daughter.
Taking a sip of my drink, the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire. There was a soft knock at the door. Looking over my shoulder, curiously at Artem, he shrugged.
“It’s not Dolly,” he said. “She was asleep before I left the room.” His eyes traveled to the closed door.
“Just a moment,” I called, placing my glass down on the gleaming polished wood.
Striding over to the door, I opened it, expecting Draco, or the angry face of Margaret, pushing past me, demanding to count her cigar collection.
My brows raised in surprise to see my wife standing small and sheepish in the doorway, wearing a floor-length white nightgown. I had dressed her in it myself right after sending Cynthia along to bed and before tucking Cassandra into her own. Her auburn hair hung in waves, a result of spending the day in the corded braid I had recently unwound from her hair.
“Cassandra,” I said. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Ah, your princess has escaped the tower,” Artem murmured over my shoulder. Yet another soft blow to my inadequate handling of my wife.
Ignoring his comment, I smiled at my wife, trying to make amends for Artem’s behavior.
Clasping her hands before her, Cassandra drew her feet in, toes together as she had the night I had chastised her in my office.
I found the childish move to be endearing.
Looking up at me, reserved but determined, she spoke quietly, “I came to speak with Artem. Margaret told me you would be in here.”
Opening the door the full amount, I disguised the surprise in my voice as I said, “Come in.”
Politely, Artem rose from his chair, glass in hand.
Cassandra’s bare feet padded over to where he stood. “We haven’t met—officially,” she said, holding her hand out to my uncle. “I wanted to introduce myself, properly.”
Taking in the vision that was my wife, Artem’s dark eyes softened a tad. Grasping her hand in his free one, he brought the back of it to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss there. “It is my pleasure to officially, meet you, Cassandra.”
A rosy blush bloomed over Cassandra’s high cheeks. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she said.
Artem’s gaze went from her tumbled hair, to her angelic gown, down to her bare feet. “And should you not be wearing something over those ‘wrong’ feet, in the dead of winter, in this drafty old castle?”
From the smile I could hear in his voice, I knew that Cassandra’s charms were beginning to melt the ice he held for her in his heart.
“She had socks on,” I murmured, seating myself in my chair. I had put them on myself, after kissing her sore ankles.
Cassandra glanced down at her sockless feet. “Sleeping in socks gives me nightmares,” she admitted, shyly.
“Well, no need to tempt fate with big bad wolves running around, sleeping in an enchanted castle, preparing to fight evil spirits. Why add socks to the list?” Artem chuckled.
Cassandra’s eyes sparkled hopefully as she looked at him, smiling.
“Come, sit.” Artem patted my knee as he sat back down beside me.
Shyly, Cassandra seated herself in my lap. I longed to have her close every hour of my day and night. My arms wound around her tightly, grateful there were only two chairs in our small library.
Cassandra was quiet, sitting courteously straight up in my lap, her legs crossed at the knee, hands lying still in her lap.
“Cassandra, tell me about yourself,” Artem said, taking a sip of his drink.
“What would you like to know?” she asked quietly.
“For starters, how did you manage to get us all in so much trouble?” Artem’s once soft eyes hardened a touch.
I ran my open hand over Cassandra’s back, offering comfort. She would have known this was not going to be an easy conversation. She was brave to come.
Biting her lower lip, Cassandra tucked her bare toes under her gown. Her feet hung freely from her perch up on my lap. “The man was a client of mine. I had spent some time with him on a case. He flattered me, flirted. The attention made me feel pretty,” she admitted, shame in her voice. “I only wanted to make Deo a little jealous.” She looked up at me from underneath her dark lashes.
My brows involuntarily raised in surprise. This was new information to me.
“Deo had been working a lot. I was just going to go for the drink. The client kept inviting me. I was going to go, have a laugh, let him compliment me, then come home and tell Deo about it.”
“To elicit a reaction from Deo?” Artem asked.
Her eyes met Artem’s. “To get his attention.”
“What did you expect Deo to say when you told him?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“And what happened next? I take it did not go according to your plans?”
“It went much further than I'd anticipated. I had a few too many drinks, and when he bent down to kiss me, I accepted his kiss.” Her voice broke as she ended her story, “And went to his room.”
“The ending you have heard, Artem.” My eyes sent a warning to my uncle. The subject would be dropped. My hand stroked Cassandra’s back as she stared into the fire, blinking back tears.
“A sad ending, no doubt.” Artem gave me a look that assured me he would not betray my trust by revealing the dark ending the man had come to. “Let us be clear. No matter the circumstances, Cassandra, no matter your actions, no man is free to take from a woman what is not freely given. I know Deo feels that way, as do I. As does every man worth his weight in salt.”
Gratitude filled me. Artem had successfully articulated the words I had longed to speak into my wife’s heart the moment I had found out what happened to her. I was unable to, and now, I watched Cassandra’s face as she processed Artem’s wise, healing words.
“And the leaving? Same story?” His voice now genuinely soft, the tone of it brought Cassandra’s eyes back to Artem. “Seeking Deo’s attention? The attention of your husband?”
Nodding, she answered, “Yes.”
My gratitude would only allow this conversation to go so far before I shut it down. Cassandra did not need to rehash the sordid details. “And I have informed you of the role I played in that, Uncle. May we leave the past alone and now focus on the future?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
After a tense moment, Artem said, graciously, “Cassandra, I respect you for coming to speak with me directly. That took courage.”
My wife seemed… lighter. Her eyes bright, she added, “I also wanted to say, I am happy to help in any way.”
“That is much appreciated.” Artem smiled. “Keep working hard at your knife play. Baal tells me you are quite good.”
Cassandra’s eyes lit up at the mention of the blade. “Oh, I am,” she said, her head nodding eagerly.
I chuckled at her enthusiasm, causing her to blush.
“I mean, Baal is a good teacher,” she said, more humbly.
“And, Cassandra,” Artem said, his tone somber.
“Yes?” she asked, looking to him, nervously.
“The next time you walk around this castle in the evening, best be sure there are slippers on your feet, young lady.”
Cassandra’s wide brown eyes shone with relief.
I patted her hip. “Bedtime.”
Cassandra stood, saying to Artem, ‘Good night.”
I walked her to the door. She turned to bid me farewell. I spoke first. “Stay put this time, baby girl,” I said, sternly, giving her an admonishing look.
“Yes, sir,” she said, flashing me a relieved smile. Stepping over the threshold in her bare feet, she hesitated a moment before adding, “Oh, and Aunt Margaret said she would do something to you if she was missing any of her cigars in the morning. I don’t know what she was threatening exactly because it was in Greek, but it sounded bad.”
Chuckling, I said, “We’ve been fairly warned.” I gave Cassandra a kiss on the top of her head. She traipsed off to bed, a weight visibly removed from her shoulders. I could see Draco’s shadow, lurking in the corner.
I closed the door, hearing the familiar click of the latch. An amused look played on Artem’s face as I passed by him, returning to my seat.
“What’s so amusing?” I asked, retrieving my glass. Artem had refilled the tumblers in my brief absence.
Artem smiled, silent for a moment before he spoke, “Charming, that one. I can see how she wrapped you around her adorable little finger.”
Chuckling, I joked, “No longer, my friend. It is she who is under my thumb, now.”
“Ah, so you say. You spoil her, no doubt.”
“That I do,” I said, gazing at the fire.
“You must spoil her, and you must spank her,” Artem said, adamantly. “There is no other way with women like ours.”
“A strong woman in the world, and a good little girl in your arms,” I sighed.
“Mmm,” Artem agreed with a smile and a nod. His gaze was wistful as he stared into the fire.
Leaning my head back in the warm chair, I enjoyed the scotch and the easy silence. My lap felt empty with Cassandra’s absence, but it was a rare opportunity to sit quietly with Artem. My thoughts settled, my mind calming. I spoke, breaking the tranquil silence. “She couldn’t have seen this coming. It’s my fault for dragging her into this. Had she married a normal…”
Artem held up a hand to stop me. “There is no use speaking like that. None of us knew, none could warn the others. It is what it is. Cassandra is proving to be strong. I might even go so far as to say she seems as at ease with the life as the others in our pack do.”
“The Princess of the Pack,” I mused.
“Yes, the Princess of the Pack.” He smiled. Lifting his glass to mine, he made a toast. “To the Princess of the Pack,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “May she fulfill her destiny under your strict, loving guidance.”
“Here, here,” I said, lifting my glass to join his.
Gazing casually at me, Artem said, “We have much to discuss. Should you see that your princess made it safely to bed, first?” he asked, a knowing look crossing his face.
Envisioning Cassandra nestled amongst her feather pillows and layers of blankets made a yearning run through my core. Mine to spoil and spank. Placing my drink down on the tray and standing, I stretched. “Yes, I think I shall. Can I get you anything before I go?”
Picking up a cigar and twirling it between his thumb and forefinger, he said, “I think I will sit quietly, and enjoy this Vamma Del Sol.” He ran the cigar under his nose, taking in its earthy, sweet scent. “I am not sure how many more of these restful moments we have left,” he finished, solemnly.
Nodding, I made my way to the door. “I’ll be back within the hour,” I called over my shoulder.
“Take your time,” Artem replied. “Take your time.”
***
Opening the door as quietly as possible, I slipped into Cassandra’s bedroom. Moonlight shone through the windows, brightening the room. A smile spread across Cassandra’s face when she saw me. Propped up on a bedful of pillows, as I had imagined, the dark waves of her hair cascade
d over them. Her white nightgown was illuminated by the moonbeams.
I crossed the room, sitting in what Cassandra had dubbed, ‘my spanking chair’. Her dark eyes widened to see me there when she clearly had expected me to join her, drawing even wider as she watched me remove my cufflinks.
One sleeve at a time, I slowly rolled my shirtsleeves to my elbows while my bride quietly watched from the bed. Looking up and locking my eyes on her, I said, “Come, Cassandra.” I raised my arms to embrace her.
Descending from the bed, Cassandra daintily made her way across the floor on tiptoe, climbing into my lap. I held her, stroking her hair, her head nestling under my chin.
“Why are you in the chair?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
“Why do you think,” I asked softly.
Cassandra’s slim shoulders gave a little shrug. “Dunno,” she answered.
“Did I ask you to stay tucked into bed, safely?”
“I did.” She looked up at me in surprise. “I was right there,” she said, pointing over her shoulder at her bed, “when you came in, tonight.”
“You were—the second time,” I corrected softy.
“Oh,” she answered quietly.
The first time I sent her in bed that evening, after slipping the nightgown over her bare skin, I had tucked the covers up to her chin. Kissing her forehead before departing, I’d said, “Stay tucked safely in this bed, little one.” Cassandra had given me a satisfied smile, snuggling down deeper into her bed of feathers.
“I had to, Deo. And you saw how well it went,” she answered, earnestly. Nervously, she twisted a lock of hair around her finger, awaiting my response.
Raising my brow and giving her a stern look, I reprimanded, “You did not have to, my princess. What you must do, is to obey me.”
“I understand. But it went so well, there is no need to spank me. All’s well that ends well,” she said, flashing me one of her winning courtroom smiles.
“I’m afraid not, baby girl. What kind of caretaker would I be if I let my little girl go unpunished? Disobeying my commands, wandering around the dark castle, alone?”
Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Alone? I am never alone. I couldn’t see Draco, but I could hear him breathing,” she said.